Ignacio's Adventure
by Paulsmum2001
Summary: Ignacio De Soto is the powerful and cruel administrator of the pueblo of Los Angeles. Pestered by the constant interference of Zorro, when Diego de la Vega, only son of the most powerful caballero in the territory, is kidnapped, Ignacio comes to see that he has opportunity to turn his life around. This time Zorro is nowhere to be seen. Ignacio has the chance to be the hero.
1. Ignacio's Lunch

Disclaimer: :** I do not own Zorro, nor do I make any money from writing this story. All rights of fictional world and characters belong to ZPI.**

Ignacio's Lunch

Ignacio De Soto sat in his office, going through the reward posters as he usually did just after lunch. Mendoza wandered in. He had called him several minutes ago. Where was the military precision of the Spanish army these days?

"Oh, the stranger who just paid his traveller's taxes had that name. And that face too," the sergeant said, commenting on the poster Ignacio still held in his hand.

Ignacio stared at Mendoza for a moment, awestruck at how slow the soldier was sometimes. "Henry Brownlow. 5000 pesos reward, dead or alive. That is a big fish, Mi Alcalde. Almost as big as Zorro himself…"

"Mendoza. Thank you so much for stating the obvious," Ignacio started gently. "Now go and do something serious for a while," he shouted. "Oh I know, the garrison's socks need darning…Well? Off you go. Duty calls," Ignacio said, shooing him with his gloved hands out of the office.

Mendoza slinked half-heartedly out of the office. Ignacio watched him go with disinterest, and then he turned to the poster and concentrated on his face.

Harry Brownlow was a murderer who had escaped custody several times. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. He would be hard to pin down and hard to catch. He sighed, and looked through the other posters.

Jerry Johnson and Max Silverton were the other two wanted men. At 2,000 pesos each, they weren't as exciting as Brownlow, but pesos were pesos. If he kept up the patrols and caught all the men himself, he would be 8,000 pesos richer. It seemed good enough to try to take it seriously. No doubt Zorro would upstage him as usual and have all of the men in the jail by sundown. The man was a menace.

A private delivered his lunch from the tavern, and he asked about the three men on the posters. The young man told him he had just seen them all in the tavern. Ignacio sat and ate thoughtfully, and played with the glass of wine at his desk. It was getting close to siesta, and he wanted to get some idea running through his head about how to go about catching the men before rest time stopped all work at all. The heat was starting to get to him this afternoon.

The door creaked open softly, and he glanced up. Diego de la Vega was standing in the doorway, looking as serious as he always did. What was wrong this time? What complaint had the scholar to make? The man stood straight and tall in his characteristic blue suit which fitted him like a glove, his dark eyebrows stern. Diego was a few years his junior, but always seemed to take life too seriously.

Ignacio beckoned him to enter and gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk.

"And what can I do for you today, Don Diego?" He took out his cigar box, and offered the caballero one, which he refused as always. Ignacio lit one for himself and puffed at it with pleasure. "I'm a very busy man, as you know."

"I am concerned about my father. Three unsavoury gentlemen seemed to be threatening him in the tavern just now. I want to know who they are."

"Ah, yes. As you know the pueblo garrison is too short staffed to handle domestic disputes," De Soto said.

"I just want their names, de Soto," Diego said, calmly.

"The leader's name is Harry Brownlow; the other two names escape me."

"Try to remember…"

"Johnson and Silverton. But they are small fry compared to Brownlow. He is worth 5,000 pesos – dead or alive," De Soto said excitedly. "Of course I will capture him. The man's a menace to law abiding people everywhere."

"Thank you, Alcalde." Diego turned to leave.

A man fitting the description of Harry Brownlow stood in Diego's way. The outlaw had a pistol levelled at the man's head. Ignatio saw the caballero stiffen and pale with shock. Ignatio swore under his breath, and reached for his sword.

"Uh-uh, friend. The boy dies if anyone threatens us. You have my word for that, senor," the outlaw growled. Ignacio thought he was bluffing, but kept his eyes on the outlaw. Perhaps if he moved slowly, and went for his pistol instead? Diego saw him thinking, and shook his head gently. Ignacio was annoyed to see Diego regain his lazy composure. The man had not enough spirit to even defend himself. Brownlow was a murderer.

"I think he is serious, Alcalde," Diego said calmly.

Ignacio hoped Zorro was somewhere close by. The dons would be furious if anything happened to someone as wealthy as Diego de la Vega. Zorro always seemed to react quickly if any of the dons were attacked. The man was annoying but he seemed to save the day quite satisfactorily most of the time.

"Brownlow, that man is a high ranking caballero," De Soto sputtered. "You will not get away with this!"

"Ah, but indeed I will." The bandit shoved Diego towards the door, into the glare of the afternoon sun, making the young don shield his eyes.

"Mendoza!"

A few soldiers reacted by firing at the bandit, and Ignacio flinched. If the outlaw was as trigger happy as Diego thought, he might have a dead don to contend with.

"Cease fire, the bandit has Don Diego!" Ignacio heard the Sergeant order. That's right; Don Diego was a close personal friend of Mendoza's. Of course he would step up his game for a friend.

Diego kept his head down, shielding his eyes from the glare. Ignatio noticed Victoria race out of the tavern into the street. The Alcalde turned his head from side to side, scanning for the black rider that always seemed to race to the rescue whenever the Senorita so much as shivered.

Brownlow glanced around carefully, and slowly moved his pistol as if to fire it at Diego's head. Diego straightened a little, and seemed to hold his breath. Victoria screamed, a loud and piercing cry.

"Alcalde, do something," she pleaded, imploring him with her eyes. Ignacio shrugged. There was nothing he could do for the man.

"At least tell me what I've done to offend you," Diego said. "I really have no idea."

Ignacio smirked a little. Words, Diego? Words were no defence against a bullet to the head.

"You are the son of Alejandro de la Vega?"

Diego glanced up at a tavern window, and Ignacio followed his gaze. Alejandro de la Vega was watching his son from an upstairs window. Diego nodded.

"Yes," he admitted softly. Ignacio thought he was stupid to admit it so quickly. Obviously Brownlow had an issue with Alejandro. Diego was just being led to the slaughter. He should have denied his identity and stalled for more time.

"My father is one of the most powerful people in California. You will not get away with this," Diego growled softly. Ignacio seemed to be the only other person to hear it. The Alcalde smiled a little. Diego did have some spirit, and finally he was reacting. Too bad it was too late to do anything about his situation.

Brownlow looked up at the window where Alejandro stood. "Not so hard to catch your whelp, was it, Senor? You know what I want. I'll be in contact," Brownlow said. He raised the butt of the pistol up and drove it down hard on Diego's head, and the man fell unconscious into the dust at Brownlow's feet.

Jerry and Max rushed through the town with a stolen cart, and Brownlow hefted Diego aboard.

"Pleasure to do business with you people," Brownlow said, as they drove quickly out of Los Angeles.

Alejandro ran downstairs and grabbed the Alcalde by his jacket lapels. He shook him, and held him up against the wall.

"Why didn't you do something?" Don Alejandro roared at him.

"What could I do? Don Alejandro, I was not aware of the danger until too late." Ignacio gazed in the direction the cart had travelled in, and took Alejandro's hands from his uniform.

"I am requesting personal assistance from the governor, de Soto," Alejandro threatened. Ignacio hesitated a little. He had been about to use his speech about not having the troops to go after the kidnappers. Ignacio knew he would be in trouble if the governor got involved. The governor had a soft spot for Don Alejandro and his family. Alejandro was friends with the royal family. Diego's mother was related to the King somehow, through marriage, but it was recognised at court. The governor would take their cause, and run with it, because he was worried about his own reputation at court. Ignacio De Soto's reputation would once again be tarnished by this darn fool territory.

"No need, of course, Don Alejandro. All efforts will be taken for Diego's safe return," the Alcalde said, trying to placate the anxious father. "Have no fear, I will personally guarantee his safe return."

"Lancers, follow that cart. Hang back a little, we're not sure what they will do with Don Diego if they feel threatened," De Soto ordered his men. He collected his horse, and rode out with the lancers.


	2. Ignacio and the Ransom Notes

Ignacio and the Ransom Notes

For a rescue party, the soldiers hung back a little too well, and soon returned to the pueblo. It was late afternoon now, and Ignacio was frustrated. He paused at the bar in the tavern for a moment's rest, and Victoria came storming out, banging a bottle and a cup in front of him and glaring.

"Well, Alcalde, where is Diego?" She demanded. "For all your boasting and blustering, I don't see him here with you."

Ignacio shrugged a little, and downed the wine she'd poured. It made the aching and the tiredness of the day disappear. Wine was good for that. She was beautiful when she was angry, he noticed vaguely. He wondered how angry Zorro would be if he heard him think like that, but he didn't care.

"Diego could already be dead, and you are doing nothing," Victoria continued.

"If he is already dead, why do anything anyway?" The Alcalde answered. "The only reason that we are trying to do something is that he isn't dead. To believe otherwise is to give up. The De Soto family is a bunch of failures, but you know what? We never give up." Ignacio was tired and the wine was already going to his head. He was a little groggy already. "If you'll excuse me, Senorita, I think I'll take my leave."

He walked straight and tall, although he felt a little lightheaded. He hadn't eaten since lunch time, and his empty stomach was a disaster waiting to happen. Reaching his office, he went upstairs to his private quarters. He'd missed siesta with all the foolish dashing about, and he felt slightly ill.

He poured himself a tumbler of water from the jug that stood on his dresser. Downing the liquid, he felt a little better. He couldn't afford too much rest. Victoria was right. Diego de la Vega was relying on him to save him. The man was helpless, completely helpless.

He splashed water into the bowl next to the jug and splashed some water onto his face. He looked down at his dusty uniform, and sighed. He had to visit the de la Vega hacienda. He needed to look presentable. Walking to the wardrobe, he opened it and glanced at his spare uniform hanging perfectly pressed on its hangers.

He was at the de la Vega's estate within the hour. Felipe, Diego's newly adopted boy, opened the door for him. The boy was a curious one; a deaf mute, silent and all seeing. The boy flinched a little as he passed him, and Ignacio noticed with a thrill that the boy was afraid of him, only if a little. There was power in that, and that pleased the Alcalde.

Ignacio De Soto paced back and forth, and glanced at Alejandro who sat on the three seat lounge in the library with Victoria. They had gone over the issues of the day a little too heatedly and emotionally to make much sense of it all.

"Let me understand this," Ignacio said, thoughtfully. He wanted to be the hero this time. This time Zorro wasn't going to steal his glory. "These men have a grudge against you."

"I did kill all of their boys." It was said so matter-of-factly, that Ignacio was startled by the words, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"When was this?"

"When I was about Diego's age. It was in self-defence. My wife and 2 year old child were in danger. The boys were outlaws, and they meant business." Ignacio stopped pacing and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "It was either our lives or theirs. I am sure you can understand the situation. There was no real law then." The old man patted Victoria's hand. "Definitely no Zorro."

"Where is Zorro?" Victoria said, irritated. "That man is so unpredictable these days."

"Obviously my increase in troop numbers finally discouraged him from entering town," De Soto said, satisfied, but secretly doubted his own boasting – it had never stopped the masked man before. He had a strange feeling that Zorro was not going to come to their aid on this occasion, but if anyone asked him he couldn't say why.

"Obviously…" Alejandro muttered.

"They have realised you now have a son, an only son….Alejandro….They have planned this for years," De Soto said, getting serious.

Perhaps if they tracked the men properly they could surround them? Three men against a garrison of dedicated, well-armed, Spanish infantry were pretty poor odds when it came to survival. He would win the day, almost definitely – particularly as the men seemed to pull up their socks when it meant Diego's freedom. Whatever did they see in the young don? He really had no idea, but he could use it for his own ends. The only problem was….Diego. If he was caught in the crossfire, he would be likely to be killed. The bandits could kill him out of spite. There must be a way to get around it.

"Let's try to keep it simple, Ignacio. My son's life is at stake," Alejandro cautioned.

Ignacio saw the older man glance towards a seat where Diego normally sat during any discussion he'd ever been present in. He could almost feel the longing of the older man for his son. Strong emotions flickered across the man's face, and Ignacio knew he needed to help. He didn't know why, he just needed to.

"Don Alejandro, leave this to me. Your son will be back with you very soon." Ignacio strode towards the door. Felipe showed him out, reluctantly.

He raced his horse back to the pueblo, and dismounted, at his office.

Mendoza was polishing his boots until they shined. He nodded at the sergeant, and frowned, staring into space. A private came running into the room, without knocking, and almost sent the sergeant flying.

"What is it?!" Ignacio said angrily. The proprieties of Spain were so sadly lacking in this garrison.

The young man was waving papers at him, which he took hurriedly and waved the boy away.

One was signed with his name. One was signed to Don Alejandro de la Vega. He tore off the wax seal to his note.

"Alcalde,

I am writing this letter on behalf of the outlaw Harry Brownlow. I am being held for ransom, but they are greedy. They have heard the stories of your time as Alcalde and want to take advantage of your failure to capture Zorro. They are making me write a letter to the King himself to detail all your other failures and illegal dealings in the pueblo, including my kidnapping. As my cousins are lately at the royal palace at this time, I am afraid it will be taken very seriously. I have no choice in this, Ignacio…"

A big spot of browning red had fallen on the paper, and Alejandro frowned even more. They had struck the young don on the head, and perhaps they had hurt him more seriously now. The spark of spirit had remained, or gotten more belligerent and they were punishing him for his insolence. Unlikely but possible. Don Alejandro's rage was legendary; perhaps his son had potential as well.

"They say they will kill me, and presently I have a loaded pistol aimed at my head. Any insolence is dealt with harshly…They say that if you will provide 6,000 pesos the letter will be burnt immediately. If not, it will be sent as of tomorrow night. I pray that I will see you soon,

Diego."

He was tempted to tear the paper into millions of tiny pieces and throw the whole lot on the fire burning in his grate.

The Alcalde returned to the de la Vega hacienda within the hour.

Holding Alejandro's sealed note in his hand, he handed the paper to Alejandro with disgust. He still had his own note in the other hand, and he was crushing it thoroughly.

"The blasted fools think they can extort money out of us," De Soto said with frustration.

"Perhaps they can," Alejandro muttered, as he read his own note silently to himself. Ignacio saw the older man pale and muscles in his neck flexed as he clenched his jaw. The Alcalde waited until the other man glanced up at him, a little dazed.

"Of all idiotic outlaws I've ever come across, this has to be the stupidest," Ignacio said. "Getting poor Diego to write this twaddle…"

"What does yours say?"

"That a letter will go to the King detailing my failures as Alcalde, including this disaster. Diego's cousins at court will be outraged."

"I'm sure you can understand why?"

"No, no. If I pay….6000 pesos…to them, they will not send the letter. Extortion to the highest level imaginable," Ignacio ranted. His face was white with fury and a great deal of fear.

"6000 pesos is a lot of money," Alejandro said thoughtfully. "Do you have it to hand?"

Ignacio hesitated. It was the reward money for the capture of Zorro. "It would take a while to get access to it."

He watched as the other man busied himself at Diego's desk, opening drawers and opening books. Alejandro de la Vega had for all intents and purposes, forgotten he was there.

"Are you still here, Alcalde? Shouldn't you arrange for the money to be paid out? They seem serious," Alejandro said, without looking up.

Ignacio De Soto looked around the room. It looked like Felipe had retired for the night. The older man had no further interest in him. He had come in a rage, and he could feel it simmer again, as he let himself out, storming through the door, and slamming it as he went.


	3. Explosion at the Capistrano Estate

Explosion at the Capistrano Estate

Ignacio rode towards the Capistrano estate. Storm clouds were gathering in the sky, and it was just his luck that he would soon be drenched through. Tongues of lightning flashed across the clouds, but none were streaking to the ground as yet. That would become dangerous. The plains were mostly bare of trees and vegetation, and the tallest things on the road were people, especially men on horseback with silver and steel on their person.

The lancers behind him were a little frustrated and worried as well. Fear and superstition worried them as they ventured where no one cared to go by choice. The local Indians had acknowledged the Capistrano lands as a taboo area, and that was a story in itself. Not that he cared much for the local Indians and their superstitions.

The Alcalde heard the noise of a heavily laden cart approaching on the same road. He turned his head, and saw Don Alejandro's head man, Juan with his fellow grooms, Michel and Dominic. Juan drove the cart, and the others were riding as an escort beside it. Three large heavy chests had been loaded on the cart.

"Senor," Ignacio said, choosing tact over style. "What is that?"

"Don Alejandro's ransom payment for Don Diego's safe return, Alcalde. We would appreciate it if you would help with the escort duty. This is an awful amount of gold."

Gold? His eyes must have lit up. He thought about all that gold. Three large chests of that size, how much gold were they talking about? Alejandro had not mentioned how much the men had asked for, but it was obviously a lot of money. He wondered if he could be able to trick the kidnappers, and steal all that money away from them. He hesitated. Zorro would be offended by the principle of the matter, and somehow make him pay it all back. It was not worth Diego's life to even consider what he could do with it all, even as much as he disliked the scholarly man. One day Zorro was going to kill him if he went too far, he had seen it in his eyes.

Thinking of Zorro, he immediately scanned the horizon for a masked man in black. He would have thought he would have escorted the gold personally, keeping to what cover there was. It was strange that Zorro had kept his distance in this matter.

"You would think Zorro would help Don Diego," Ignacio thought out loud. Mendoza shook his head, and startled the Alcalde.

"Why not?"

"I have seen the way Diego looks at the senorita," Mendoza said softly. "He is in love, but I don't think he knows yet."

"What senorita?" Ignacio began, irritated. Then he realised. Senorita Victoria Escalante was a beautiful woman, a childhood friend of the de la Vega family, but she was also Zorro's sweetheart. Of course, no man in their right mind would go and rescue a romantic rival - though he had always considered Zorro to not be in his right mind. Who goes around robbing money from people, and throwing it out to the poor? No one he knew, that was for sure.

"Diego is in love with Victoria Escalante?" He whispered, stunned by the revelation.

Mendoza nodded a little. "I think so, and a few of the men have seen it as well."

"Well, well. Wonders never cease. I wonder…" There was a flash of lightning striking just ahead of them, sparking tiny fires alongside the road. "Seek cover. I think there's more coming. Look for a cave." The Alcalde ordered, controlling his frightened horse with skill.

His eyes scanned the road ahead. Another strike of lightning seemed to light up the whole hill, and then the whole hill seemed to erupt like a volcano. Billows of fire seemed to blossom out of the ruins and the ground itself, and thick black smoke made everyone wonder what had just happened.

The realisation that everything was over before it had begun took a little while in coming. Ignacio stared at the fire burning the hill, and knew his personal ransom was not needed, not now. The bandits were up there. Trackers had pinpointed their location accurately. Diego was up there. Up there with a giant fireball. The chests of gold were unnecessary. Diego was dead. His father had lost his son.

Ignacio sat on his prancing horse, unaware of his surroundings. He had never seen a more intense blaze. Nothing was moving up there. Whatever person, animal, bird or plant had been up there….They were all dead, eaten up by the flames. Mendoza had crept forward from his fall-back position, and stared at the inferno dumbfounded.

"Don Diego…"

Ignacio glanced at the men with the cart. Juan had closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. The other men were awe struck and couldn't take their eyes off the scene.

Ignacio turned his men around, and the cart followed them back to Alejandro de la Vega's hacienda.

Ignacio followed the cart home. The least he could do was to make sure the money was returned safely. He felt like a failure, like he had broken his word. He had made promises to Don Alejandro. Promises that he could not deliver. His pride hurt him, but his self-worth had taken another beating as well.

The cart went before him, slowly and painfully. Alejandro seemed to be working in the gardens around the hacienda, watering pot plants. Ignacio had watched from a distance. How unlike his own father was de la Vega. Absolutely dedicated to his son's safety, willing to spend a fortune just to have him back. The problem was he was not going to have his son back.

Ignacio urged his horse into a gallop, and pulled her to a sudden stop just inside the gates. He dismounted and strode quickly over to Don Alejandro. He hesitated slightly, and then brought an arm around the old man. Starting to guide him into the coolness of the hacienda, he was alarmed to see that Alejandro was much too stunned to complain.

"You," Ignacio said, turning to Juan. "Fetch Hernandez." Juan nodded and saddled a horse. Soon he was galloping back towards town.

"Ignacio," Alejandro said slowly. "Where is Diego?"

Ignacio shook his head, he couldn't tell him out here. The man was sure to physically collapse on him. He needed to get him to sit down.

"We need to get you out of this heat. Let's go into the dining room, Don Alejandro. Let's get you a drink."

Alejandro calmly let himself be led by Ignacio, which in itself frightened the Alcalde, but then he turned, and realisation begun to dawn in the older man's eyes.

"What did you do?" Alejandro's voice came out in a whisper. "Where is my son, Ignacio?"

Alejandro started to fuss slowly, like a man struggling in a nightmare. He pushed himself away from Ignacio's supporting arm, and refused to be led. Alejandro walked quickly towards the library. Ignacio followed the older man, unsure of how to talk to him.

"Perhaps a brandy would suffice, Don Alejandro?" He asked, indicating the decanter on the tray. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down for a moment?"

Alejandro took the drink, and sat. He glanced around as if surprised that his son was not in the library.

Ignacio paced back and forth, trying to think of an easy way to break the news to the older man. He looked up at Alejandro now and then. Felipe raced into the room, distracting the two men. Felipe looked at Alejandro and went to him. Felipe studied the Alcalde's pale, nervous face. Felipe stood again, and began to shake his head repeatedly. It forced words to come into Ignacio's mouth. The boy knew what he was trying to tell them, but Felipe didn't want to believe him.

"Whole hillside went up. Nothing we could do. Explosion was deafening," Ignacio said, stumbling over his words. "Diego is dead." He turned his head to gaze out the window, and swallowed with difficulty.

"No…no…" The words coming out of Felipe's lips startled both of the men. They watched speechless as the teenager ran from the room. Neither went after him. Ignacio had never cared for the child at all, ever, but he thought Alejandro would have. Felipe was Diego's son after all.

"Kidnappers got caught up in it as well. Justice served, I suppose."

"Get out, Ignacio. Get out. I want my son. Get my son," Alejandro said, his voice rising into a shout. "Bring my son home, Ignacio. Now."

Ignacio De Soto bowed, and left the hacienda.

Ignacio rode out with 10 lancers. The landscape was still hot from the explosion. He wondered how long it would take to cool down. What was left of the hacienda were scarred corners. No vegetation grew. No birds sang.

He peered into the water trough. It was bone dry. The bottom was baked. Steam rose eerily from the ground.

Mendoza marched beside him. No one talked.

Ignacio was the one to break the silence.

"Right. Mendoza, take 5 lancers and search the southern end of the ruins. I'll take 5 and search the northern end."

He dismounted gingerly, slowly. He crouched in the ashes, and glanced around. He half expected Diego to start waffling on with theories about the cause of the inferno. Explosions caused by stores of gunpowder no doubt. He'd seen it at scenes of battles. Nothing too strange about that. Only it didn't smell like that.

The light was fading and his lancers were slow. He was slow. He didn't like feeling he had failed, and failed so badly. He didn't particularly want to find a body. Ignacio glanced up and around at the sky. No buzzards circling. Perhaps no bodies had survived in any form. Everything was ash.

He gave up the search in about half an hour, claiming the light was fading too much. It wasn't as bad as that, but Mendoza and the rest of the men agreed with no argument or complaint of any kind.


	4. Ignacio's Reprimand

The Alcalde rode out alone to the de la Vega estate, his thoughts weighing on him. Don Alejandro would be furious at the lack of results, but there was nothing for it. There was no body to find, he had decided. It was all ash. He had to placate the man, he had to humour the old man a while, to keep him from writing any letters in the heat of anger.

He could understand the heartache he must be feeling. Diego and Alejandro were a team. Diego had never been much of a swordsman but as a voice for the people he had excelled. He should never have allowed the newspaper to take such stands. Diego had pushed him in so many ways through public opinion. Diego could incite a rebellion by the stroke of a pen, but he seemed completely unaware of the power he wielded. Had seemed. The man was dead. He would miss the gentle opposition from that quarter.

He rapped his hand on the door, and waited. He half expected Diego's son to answer. Alejandro appeared in his grandson's stead. The old man seemed drained and overwhelmed.

"Don Alejandro," Ignacio greeted him, with downcast eyes.

"Have you found him yet?"

"Don Alejandro, the explosion was intense. There is unlikely to be anything left of him. I'm sorry," Ignacio said. A surge of real sympathy filled his heart. It hurt, and he pushed it aside.

"This was your fault. My son was at risk, you knew that. The King will soon know of this," Alejandro said. "You should have kept him safe, and now you can't even retrieve my son's body."

"I will go out once more. Diego was not a man of action, but he was smart in other ways. Perhaps he managed to avoid the main part of the explosion. Perhaps his body is just not where we expect. I will double the efforts," Ignacio said softly. He tried not to think of the consequences of this. Diego's cousins on his mother's side were now related to the King himself, even though through marriage. Connections at court were everything. His career was in tatters over the Zorro issue already, and now this tragedy would have him court martialled. And, if the King was annoyed enough, possible execution.

"If we could contact Zorro…" The Alcalde bit his lip. Zorro was a menace…. although he had come to the rescue of the pueblo countless times in the past. A fact and a predictability he himself had relied on heavily over the three years he had spent in office.

"I would think Zorro's body would be found there as well," Alejandro said. "The way that man protected me and mine was always extraordinary. He always seemed to be there when we needed him."

The Alcalde slightly nodded. The fact had crossed his mind, but it was early days. Zorro had the bad habit of being out of action for a few days and then popping up out of the shadows just when he had persuaded himself that he was gone for good.

"If you excuse me, I need some time on my own, Ignacio, please. I am grieving over my son. I think you can accept that," Alejandro said with an edge of pain in his voice. The old man walked him to the door, and Ignacio felt flung out, even though the old man didn't touch him. The door slammed shut behind him, almost in his face.


	5. Ignacio's Missing Prey

The tavern was just starting to become interesting when a private raced in and across to Ignacio's table.

"What is it?"

"Zorro…someone has Zorro…" It brought a hush over the tavern instantly. Ignacio's spirits rose immediately.

"When you say someone has Zorro…" Ignacio said, savouring the concept. "What exactly do you mean?"

He walked with the man out to his horse and mounted quickly. The private hesitated. He gestured to the office, and Ignacio walked his horse over to the wooden building, to enquire of the man standing at his ease just outside.

"Who are you?" Ignacio said, looking the man up and down, immediately sizing him up. He wore a cowboy's clothes, and seemed to be an American. A mercenary for hire, no doubt, judging by the six gun pistol in its holster.

"One of Brownlow's flunkies," Mendoza said with a little bit of malice, as he patted the man down and removed the gun belt.

"I am a messager from Brownlow. He has Zorro restrained and injured, pegged down in the middle of the desert," the man said. He was dirty and ill dressed, but he seemed to be certain in what he was saying. He seemed a little put out by the disarming technique. "I am trying to help you," he complained, a little irritated.

Pegged down in the middle of the desert? Restrained? Injured? How on earth was that even possible? He wasn't sure he believed the man. Ignacio saw conviction in his eyes. The man believed wholeheartedly that he was right.

"Lead the way," Ignacio said thoughtfully. "Lancers!"

Zorro tied down in the middle of the desert? He didn't think that was possible. A messager from Brownlow? The kidnappers had escaped the inferno? Maybe Diego had escaped as well, possibly with the help of Zorro himself. If Diego was alive, he needed to help him. It would distract from his absolute failure in rescuing him and believing him dead at the Capistrano estate. Alejandro might not write his incredibly vindictive letters to the governor if he saved his son after all.

It was not far from the Capistrano inferno site. He dismounted, and approached the area where a man had definitely been tied down with strong ropes, and left to rot in the desert sun. Only there wasn't a man there anymore. The ropes had been cut with some sort of blade. Blood stained the sand, not much, but enough to indicate a moderate injury. The sand had been disturbed so much that was clear that several people had rushed to his aid. Indians, probably. He would have to venture into the Indian camp over the next rise and demand an explanation. Only he would probably have to be a little diplomatic, he supposed.

Ignacio touched the blood stained sand. Just how close had he come to capturing the wounded Zorro? Annoyance flooded his mind, and he kicked at the sand with frustration.

Damn it, the man was a menace. Like a real fox, he was so elusive. He couldn't stand the way he kept slipping through all the traps he put out for him. Even injured he seemed unattainable. Ignacio quickly arrested the messager, who had been waiting with bated breath for a share of the reward, no doubt.

Ignacio grabbed him by his shirt and shook the ruffian until his teeth chattered in his head.

"Where is Brownlow?" Ignacio waited for a moment and shook the man vigorously again. "Tell me!"

"He'll…kill…me," the man said. "He'll set Jerry on me – he'll kill me."

Jerry sounded impressive, Ignacio thought. Jerry sounded like a man worthy of anyone's respect, unpredictable perhaps but impressive.

"I'll have you hung at dawn, I'll have you drawn and quartered," he growled, dramatically. "Is the caballero still alive?"

The man looked at his dusty boots, and Ignacio felt a shiver go through his tense body. Diego had to be alive. He had to have another chance to make this good. His career was on the line this time, he could feel it. Alejandro would have his head. Sooner or later Alejandro would write to the right person and a court martial would be waiting for him.

"I…I don't know…" Ignacio shook him again, hard. "Maybe…He escaped. Zorro rescued him from the miner's cottage, ripped out some wood panels… Zorro is as strong as a lion…"

"Miner's cottage?" Ignacio wanted to keep the information flowing. Zorro was not as strong as a lion, no man was. It was stupid to perpetuate such myths.

"On the rise over there," the man said, pointing vaguely. "It's all empty now of course."

"Of course," Ignacio murmured, stroking his beard. "Where is Diego now?"

"We tracked him to the Capistrano hacienda, but the man was gone when we got there. Zorro was scoping out the place. He probably knows real well where the caballero is."

"How badly hurt is he?" Ignacio said, thoughtfully.

"Who?"

"Diego de la Vega, you fool!" He was fast losing patience with the cowboy. The man shrugged with a hesitant glance at his feet. Ignacio resisted the urge to strike him hard across the head. The man still had information. The hesitation disturbed him.

Ignacio frowned. Was Diego that badly injured? If he was wandering around this far from civilization badly hurt, he may well have passed out. Exposure out here would kill a man quickly.

"The guy had bumps and bruises all over him. Cuts and scrapes too. Maybe a busted nose. The guy had a mouth on him, Jerry didn't like him."

Ignacio nodded. Diego was becoming a little mouthy these days. Hopefully the blood on the note was just from the blood nose, and not from something else the messager had decided to not mention.

"He was a little dizzy before though. We thought he wouldn't get very far, but if he had help…"

"Zorro would have gotten him home, but for you idiots…" Ignacio said, with a surge of frustration. "Diego would be sitting at his ease in his library, with his doting father, and all this would have been over." He growled to himself more than to the shaking man.

He would not have been the hero and erased the bad feeling of failure, but Alejandro would have calmed right down and completely forgot his rage. His son would need his help, and by the time he had seen his son recover, he would have become distracted with his estate once more. There would be no nasty letters, there would be no chance of a court marital over the incident.

He thrust him away from him, and into the arms of Mendoza who quickly tied the man up, not very gently.

Ignacio rode at the head of the lancers, lost in thought. He kept his eyes open for any movement. Either Zorro or Diego could appear at any moment. Either way he had to assist them. Zorro would undoubtably know where he had hidden Diego, and Diego would be in need of medical assistance. He hated the idea of being Zorro's ally, but it was to serve the greater good. He had always been flexible enough to bend with the problems in his life, only he bent right back to his starting position once the threat had passed. Zorro was not going to get away with his life of crime. He thwarted his every move to bring discipline to the pueblo, and progress. He would have him one day.

Diego had showed a little more spark than he would have expected. To get punched in the nose, he would have to have been at least a little obnoxious. He hadn't cowered in a corner, as he had half expected him to. He had stood up for something. The newspaper editing must have toughened the young caballero up a little.


	6. The Case of the Missing Senorita

The Case of the Missing Senorita

It was getting dark rapidly, and Ignacio reluctantly decided to leave searching the Indian camp for the masked man for the next morning. It was far too dark to see very far. Zorro would simply slip past him in the gloom.

Ignacio called in at the tavern. Dinner was always good there, not that he would praise the feisty tavern keeper. Victoria wasn't back yet from her trip out to find Alejandro. Pilar seemed a little nervous as she took on the role of manager. Her eyes kept travelling to the front doors, as if expecting her employer at any moment.

Ignacio's eyes travelled to the doors eventually. He shifted in his seat, turning his whole body. It was a little unnerving. Victoria was always present in the tavern. Always travelling between tables, with something caustic to say. She was a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that. She moved with so much grace and composure. But she was a nasty piece of work, and almost as much trouble as Zorro himself.

He turned back to stare thoughtfully at the white wall nearby. Where was she? Had something happened to Alejandro? Had something happened to her? Or was it just that Zorro had finally run away with the lady? Is that why he had disappeared?

Ignacio remembered with the heat of self-disapproval the issue of the love potion. He had fallen for her so easily. He would have even married the wench! She was completely beneath his social class. He had drunk the potion Victoria had meant for Zorro, and had ended up proposing to the senorita within a few short hours. He grinned despite himself. He wondered how Zorro had liked that idea. The masked man had confronted them, and rectified the problem, but the agony of his senorita in the arms of his worst enemy must have cut deeply. Zorro was attracted to the tavern like a bee to a rose.

Maybe Victoria and Alejandro had stumbled upon Zorro? He stiffened. That idea wasn't entirely farfetched. Of course they would have to help him. They would at least want to know where Diego was. If the theory of the masked man rescuing the caballero was correct, Zorro would indeed know exactly where Diego was to be found.

Why hadn't they returned yet? Had Zorro been more injured than the messenger had said? Was he dead? The idea didn't feel good for some reason. If Zorro was dead, then nothing was keeping Ignacio in California. He had achieved his goal of ridding the territory of the masked menace…. if he was dead. Madrid suddenly seemed not worth the journey. Could it be that he actually liked it in Los Angeles? Had he really gotten himself so settled?

Had they found Diego? Was he too injured to travel? Was Diego dead? Out of the two men, surely he was more likely to have died from his injuries. Had bandits attacked the small group? He stood slowly, and glanced towards the door. Should he do something? He was the Alcalde, and really, he was in charge of the town and its inhabitants. Was it a chance to be a hero? Or a chance to be made a fool of?

He sat back down as slowly as he had risen. His wine sat half-finished in his glass. Pilar walked past, and placed a plate of tamales and a bowl of soup in front of him. He didn't thank her, even though he had an urge to, and started to eat. He took a sip of his wine after eating a tamale and sighed.

He really needed an early night, and a good night's sleep. His imagination was spinning out of control. For a moment there, it seemed that Diego and Zorro could be one man. It was as unlikely as discovering gold in the centre of town. His imagination had drifted to Zorro. His haughty demeanour was nothing like Diego's humility. They were polar opposites. And yet…? They were both over 6 feet tall. Both seemed to have blue eyes. He would really need to see them both again. Perhaps study their moustaches? Many men had moustaches. It was very fashionable in Spain, and therefore caballeros groomed themselves accordingly.

If Alejandro had been Diego's age, he would have undoubtedly been a force to reckon with. The old man was annoyingly persistent, and in his day he was very skilled with the sword. People still talked of his skill in battle. The old man had even believed himself to be Zorro, and had even convinced him, at one stage. Head injuries were always trouble. Zorro had knocked him out as usual, leaving him with a shocking head ache that lasted for days. Zorro had been particularly agitated that day. His pride might have been hurt by the confusion between them. Ignacio knew he himself wouldn't have liked to be confused with an older version of himself. Zorro's pride would one day be his downfall, certainly.

Diego was the opposite. Diego was a man of words and theories and curious tangents that seemed to lead nowhere important. He was not the total coward he had taken him for, but he disliked force of any kind. Diego was a man of suggestion and compromise. Diplomacy and tact were his weapons, and he was quite skilled in those. He had no interest in the sword or in horseflesh on any level. He was a mystery to most. His blue eyes always seemed deep and serious, as if many things were in motion just below the surface, like a calm ocean full of sharks.

Ignacio stiffened again. Was that what they were like? A peaceful ocean full of sharks? What a concept! Diego wasn't a shark. If anything he was like a turtle. More than competent in his own sphere, but absolutely hopeless and slow anywhere else. Sharks suggested grace, speed and danger, things that thankfully were lacking in Diego's personality. He had enough trouble with the man as a newspaper editor. He didn't want to have to deal with Diego as a competent swordsman.

Zorro was like a fox. He was like a shark. He struck decisively and fast, his blade was always sharp. He played with people he fenced with, and delighted in making fools out of his opponents. Ignacio would dearly love to know who he had trained under. Surely the man would have been trained in Madrid with a master swordsman.

Something in his head whispered, "Diego was educated in Spain…" He shook his head, and ran his fingers through his hair. Diego wasn't Zorro. They had met in Madrid, at the University. They had been in the same drama group. Diego had always been very accomplished. Ignacio would have known if he was as proficient at swordplay as Zorro would have to be.

Good swordsmen were very boastful and masters were always challenging other men to duels, to prove their skills. Diego had never challenged anyone, ever. Ignacio could remember vaguely that Diego had argued against violence and war and aggression many times. It was distasteful to him. Diego would never have become something as violent as Zorro.

Zorro revelled in his power with the sword. He loved to win. It should have made him overconfident, but he never slipped in his technique, never. Zorro loved to race that fierce stallion of his across the plains, even if no one was attempting to catch him. Most gave up the chase within a few minutes as no horse in the area could match Toronado. Speed and power were Zorro's driving force. Victoria's kiss was his food and drink, the air he breathed.

Diego was soft and slow, calm and quiet. He mastered the things he enjoyed. Music, art, poetry. Ignacio supposed that they were enjoyable to some people, and Diego seemed to excel in those areas. He was always reading or painting or playing the piano. Every caballero could play a guitar, but he had rarely seen Diego with one. Perhaps it was because he wasn't as good with the guitar as he would wish. He was always at his piano.

The senorita would soon be back. He was not going to dash around in the dark, looking for people that were probably completely safe. It could wait until morning. He would investigate the Indian camp and while he was there, he would send some of the lancers to look for Victoria and Alejandro.


	7. Trouble at the Indian Camp

Trouble at the Indian Camp

**This is a long one. I liked writing this one, obviously. **

Ignacio de Sotto woke up in his soft bed, cranky and sore. The pillows were too high and he looked around for someone to blame. There was no one of course. He had fallen asleep propped up in bed, with his well-worn copy of Machiavelli's "The Prince".

He lay flat for a moment, throwing the pillows over the side in protest. It was so soft, a treat that would never grow old. He could remember his childhood. His father had been a poor farmer, dirt poor and bad tempered. Bed back then had been a corner of floor, rock hard and cold. Cadiz was a cold and horrid place. He hated being poor and helpless. His family had been walked over by the wealthy dons, every single day.

He had pushed himself to be smart, to be the best. It had earned him a scholarship at one of the finest Universities in all of Europe. It had given him a chance to rub shoulders with those who had looked down on him and his family since the day he was born. Being three years older than Diego meant that they didn't share any classes together, but drama had been something they had shared. Diego had always been brilliant on the stage.

He sighed a little. Diego was a man who had always shown him nothing but kindness. He tried to make him change for the better, especially with the newspaper of his. He seemed to tease and play with him, but lightly and without malice. Diego's kindness was his greatest weakness, and further proof that the man was spineless. Out of anyone in the whole pueblo, Diego was the first and sometimes the only one who inquired about his health. Don Alejandro had no love for Ignacio, but then again, the old soldier was a man of ideals. No one would ever be good enough for that man, maybe not even his own son.

Being from a poor family, he had been expected to show some compassion. Diego's eyes always looked at him questioningly whenever he was especially harsh to the peons. Ignacio frowned. Being born poor didn't make him stupid, he mused. He would never be downtrodden again, he would never allow anyone to make a fool of him again. He would drag the peons up with him. He had pushed through the ranks of society, and with a bit of determination the best of them could do the same. He just needed to weed out the weaklings and the whiners. The rest would follow his lead.

He craved wealth and its power, like a drowning man craved air. Fear was behind that drive, and he felt it for what it was at times. Zorro reacted to his greed with aggression, but he was only trying to protect his lifestyle. Surely Zorro had more than enough. With the silk outfit that he wore, he would have to be wealthy. He was some wealthy caballero out for glory and adventure. He knew nothing of poverty. How dare he interfere with his business and that of the town?

Deep down, he envied Zorro. He wouldn't like to admit it, but he knew… Zorro was twice the swordsman he was. As he sat astride the magnificent Andalusian stallion, he demonstrated his horsemanship skills, and they far surpassed Ignacio's. He had style and grace, and he could move so fast and effortlessly that he was almost impossible. He ran across the roofs of the town like he was an alley cat. Crept in and out of windows like he was a ghost.

Mendoza crept into the room, with a tray of coffee and a bread roll. Ignacio nodded at him with a frown.

"Leave the tray and leave the room. Mendoza," he said. "Have Don Alejandro and the others returned from their journey as yet?"

"No, mi Alcalde. One of the workers on the de la Vega estate has come into the tavern to enquire of Senorita Escalante, and no one has seen her either."

"Hmm…" Ignacio stroked his beard thoughtfully, as he watched the sergeant slowly leave the room. Mendoza seemed a little concerned as well. Where could they be? He knew the Indians west of the town were supported by the de la Vegas. He wasn't sure why, as the Indians had no real power or influence in the territory. Why on earth would anyone seek to visit and protect them? They were only a little higher than horses after all, not truly equal with the Spanish.

Maybe they had sought shelter from the elements in the Indian village. He would dress and groom himself and then take some lancers out to the tribe. He would escort Alejandro home, and try to persuade him to give up the search that would probably only end in tears. Lancers could search for the injured Diego, or what was left of him. The old man would stay in his hacienda. Hopefully the Senorita would have persuaded him already. She wasn't a stupid woman, and she seemed to have some influence over the old fool.

He dressed quickly and made sure he was immaculent. Style and poise were everything to a man. A finely dressed soldier was a powerful soldier. Power was everything that was important. Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.

The lancers and Mendoza travelled with Ignacio for the hour and a half that it took to get to the Indian camp. Ignacio hesitated at the border of their territory. He knew very well where the edge was. He glanced around apprehensively. He was nowhere near the burial grounds, that was good. They got so irrationally angry if that area was even walked across.

There didn't seem to be any sign of Zorro in the vicinity, and even if he was around, he would be unlikely to brave Ignacio's punishment a second time. A stupid but noble move on the outlaw's part. In his place, Ignacio would have left the man to face the trials alone. The outcome of the day would have been harsh. He didn't think he could have survived the initial beatings, let alone the Wall of Death that Zorro effortlessly mastered. Still it was stupid…

The camp seemed to be deserted. Something seemed to be happening in the centre of camp, near the impressive campfire. There was a flurry of movement, and he managed to make out Alejandro and Victoria cowering a little towards the edge of the camp.

A roughly presented man tried to rush past them, and Ignacio recognised the individual as the man named Max Silverton. He gestured for Mendoza to hold the man, and strode forward to investigate the matter further.

He would be the hero today, he thought, with satisfaction. Zorro was nowhere to be seen. Obviously the outlaws were frightening the Indians and Alejandro de la Vega. He would have thought Zorro would have intervened by now. Perhaps his injuries had been fatal after all.

Ignacio was attracted to movement near the chief's tepee. Diego stood there, bruised and bloodied. He was wrenching a knife out of his jacket. Dried blood covered the vest, but obviously only the droplets from his swollen nose. A bandaged head proclaimed the seriousness of a head wound, and Ignacio was a little concerned at Diego's slightly unbalanced stance.

Jerry jumped behind the caballero and caught in a headlock. Alejandro made a tiny step forward, but Ignacio put a hand out to caution him. The look in the man's face reminded him of other men. The outlaw was cruel and strong, and Ignacio realised the determination in the man's eyes was not a great sign that Diego would come out of the head lock alive. The arm around his neck could so easily cut off his air supply.

"Back off old man," Jerry hissed, as he applied pressure to Diego's throat. Diego's hands both went up to pull at the man's arm as he fought for air. Jerry relaxed his arm a little to let the man breathe.

Alejandro stepped back. "What do you want?" He said, biting his lip thoughtfully. Diego's eyes were afraid, and he obviously felt trapped.

"What do we have here?" Ignacio said, calmly. He kept back with Alejandro carefully.

"Any moves to stop me, and I crush his airways," Jerry warned, applying pressure enough for Diego to gasp for air.

Ignacio narrowed his eyes and raised his hands above his shoulders, to indicate his unwillingness to confront the crazed man. Surely there was something he could do. Diego was already struggling to breathe. Another squeeze like that, the caballero could have his neck snapped.

Ignacio watched as Jerry dragged Diego out of the camp, and over to a nearby rock. He was aware of Alejandro close beside him. As Alejandro began to follow the outlaw and his son, Ignacio joined him, and made sure they both followed at a distance.

"Alcalde, do something," Alejandro said softly. "This madman will kill him."

"If only we could get someone to move to the other side of this man," he murmured. The problem was intriguing. "A sharp blow to the head would stop him."

"Where are the others? Harry and Max?"

"Max? The trembling fool who ran out of the camp, and surrendered to Mendoza?"

"Could be," Alejandro murmured. "Harry is the ringleader, I think."

Diego gasped suddenly, and struggled against Jerry's grip around his neck. Ignacio frowned, realising the outlaw was slowly killing the young man. He stepped forward despite himself, unsure of how to help.

A shot rang out, echoing in the sheltered canyon. Jerry fell with Diego to the ground. Alejandro leapt forward and gathered Diego into his arms.

Ignacio watched as Alejandro checked desperately for vital signs. By the look of Diego's pale face, it was debateable from a distance if he would find any. The sigh of relief from the old man made the Alcalde relax. Jerry was the issue now.

A bullet had pierced his skull, neatly and expertly. The man was dead, no question. The Alcalde glanced in the direction where the bullet must have come from, but of course there was no one there. "Zorro," he murmured thoughtfully. It must have been Zorro. So silent and so expertly done. The masked man was normally so dramatic and so confident, delighting in being seen. Why was he hiding so expertly?

"He's dead, Alejandro. Bullet between the eyes. Neatly done," Ignacio said, when Alejandro glanced towards him. "Is your son coming round?"

Alejandro shook his head. "Where's Harry?"

Ignacio sighed, and returned to the middle of camp. He had failed again, and again he had been upstaged by Zorro. Where was that ringleader? Someone was going to pay for all this. He needed to hang somebody. It would make him feel better.

He searched the camp thoroughly, and was pleasantly surprised to have complete cooperation from the Indian tribe. Apparently the villain had captured a child and held her hostage. Harry would not have any friends in this part of California. He sighed and left the search to the lancers to follow up. He realised that the ringleader had run for the hills, as soon as he had realised the lancers were in camp. There was no sign of the man.

Ignacio made his way back to Alejandro. "I'll escort you home, Don Alejandro," de Soto said.

"We need protection. I will request some from the governor," Alejandro said with decision.

"It will take a while to organise," the Alcalde said thoughtfully. He stroked his beard. His men would take the responsibility to protect the de la Vegas, and the risks were not great for his lancers. They were highly trained, although a little sloppy, soldiers of Spain. One man would not dare go up against them. Although, he mused, Zorro seemed to everyday. The only difference was that the soldiers liked Diego, and they also liked Zorro. They didn't want to capture their friend. Really he needed new men from Spain with no real alliance to the masked man.

"I can offer you half the garrison for your protection. I myself will be on guard at your hacienda." Ignacio noticed Don Alejandro's slight discomfort. He knew he wasn't the old man's favourite person, and he never would be. It was of no consequence. As long as he kept him reasonably happy, Alejandro may forget all about his letters to the governor, and his friends at the Spanish court.

"You hope that this will get back to Spain. How protective and how dedicated you are to the safety of the caballeros in this territory. Especially those related to the Queen." Don Alejandro's words were bitter and mainly true. The old man could almost read his mind. Was he really that predictable? He supposed he was. Ignacio shifted uneasily.

"Mendoza, help Don Alejandro with getting his son into the cart. Organise an escort formation with the men. Any attack will be repelled immediately."


	8. Escorting the de la Vegas Home

Escorting the de la Vegas Home

Ignacio de Sotto oversaw the soldiers as they lifted Diego and placed him carefully into Victoria's cart. Alejandro was frowning, but offered no complaint. Finally, something he had done that met with mild approval. He watched as Alejandro placed blankets and other garments around on both sides of his son, to cushion the young man against the inevitable bumps and jolts of the cart as it travelled back to the hacienda.

Victoria gently positioned his head on a cushion of something else, and took her position at the driving seat. Ignacio was curious about her. She looked as if she had been weeping, her eyes were red and she seemed to be trying not to look at her friend. Could it be that she had transferred her affections from Zorro to Diego, and all it had taken was seeing her friend almost killed, and covered with bruises? That was interesting.

Alejandro positioned himself on Diego's right and the small adopted son of Diego's sat on his left. Ignacio felt the boy's emotion just looking at the teenager. His eyes were shocked and dark with concern. Mendoza had realised that the teenage boy had been responsible for the death of Jerry, and had brought it to his attention. He had the pistol in his possession even now. The boy did not seem to miss it.

Ignacio mounted his horse, and viewed his men with a brief glance. There was military precision in their formation, and the way the soldiers were scanning the horizon and surrounds was a credit to their training. Why had he never seen that before? Had they ever taken his orders seriously? Maybe Diego was better suited to the position of Alcalde? They seemed to respect the young man far above himself.

He glanced back at the cart. The teenager was staring intently at Diego's face, as if willing the man to wake up. His small hand was placed on his father's chest, as if the boy needed to feel Diego's heartbeat – a reassurance that his father was alive.

Ignacio looked in at Diego for a moment. He was very pale, and bruises covered his face. The nose might be broken; it was swollen enough, but it might not be broken. Bruises were not yet visible on his neck, but they would come. Jerry had been a strong man.

Alejandro and Felipe talked for a moment, and Ignacio dropped back. The family needed their privacy after all. They seemed to be talking with signs again, and Ignacio was a little curious about that. He had heard the teenager speak already, but perhaps his recovery was limited. It was remarkable that the child could hear and talk all of a sudden like that, but he'd had experiences in the military with soldiers that had lost their sense of hearing from the shock of a canon near them. The soldiers sometimes regained their hearing, sometimes they did not.

Victoria kept her eyes to the front, and drove remarkably well – for a woman. She had a stubbornness that drove her to get on with life even when everything was falling apart around her. He knew her story.

Alejandro glanced out to the side, scanning the horizon for dangers. Ignacio met his eyes, pulling in his horse, and rode slowly next to the cart.

"How is he going?" Ignacio said, softly.

"No real change. The airways are still swollen. The cold compresses are working but only just. He's breathing…"

Ignacio peered into the cart at Diego. His chest was rising, but he didn't seem to be regaining consciousness anytime soon.

"The deaf mute, Diego's boy, talks…" He responded after a moment, his eyes returning to the older man's face.

"The shock of losing his father," Alejandro said with a shrug. "Diego is going to be so excited…"

Ignacio glanced away. Diego may not even recover consciousness, but his father had not considered that option. He thought the strange optimisim in the old man's voice was a little disturbing – it sounded a little forced.

"You have been lucky, Don Alejandro, very lucky," Ignacio said, thoughtfully. He urged his horse to a faster canter to distance himself from the cart a little. He needed to make sure the men were still in formation.

He wondered if his father would have been that dedicated to his family if things had been different. Poverty may have made their life too hard, but what if they had been wealthy? Would his father still refuse to write to him – if he knew how to read and write? Would he still prefer his brothers over him? Would he still consider him dead to the family? The older de Sotto had felt betrayed by his son's ambition, and Ignacio realised he had probably brought a lot of discredit to the family name. It seemed as if he would never be forgiven.

Alejandro de la Vega forgave Diego at least once a week. Diego, who seemed to disappoint and frustrate the old man beyond belief, was completely loved and treasured. It was evidenced here. Alejandro may not be completely content with his son's life, but he forgave without restriction. Diego must have found his father a difficult man to live with at times as well, but he would stand by the older man completely. As long as it didn't involve violence, of course.

Something twigged in Ignacio's mind. Diego didn't have to defend his father with violence. It was always Zorro who intervened so that was never needed. Hang on, Ignacio thought. What does that mean? It certainly meant something…

He shook his head vigorously. He needed to sit in the quiet solitude of his office, in his comfortable desk chair. Certain coincidences were triggering disjointed thoughts, he needed some space to get his thoughts sorted out.

There was activity in the cart. Victoria reined in a little, and slowed the horse to a walk. Ignacio rose an eyebrow and moved his horse closer to the cart.

He could hear the raspy breathing of Diego. Well, well. The young man had forced himself awake, and was struggling to catch his breath. He was stronger than he had thought. His soft hands moved to touch his neck.

"Rest, Diego. Your airways are damaged. Wise Eagle gave us a medicine that should soothe and heal your throat. Relax…"

Diego's eyes flickered open, and he attempted to sit up and talk. Ignacio admired his stubbornness despite his obvious pain. The teenager restrained him gently, and Diego was forced to line flat.

"Yes, you are in Victoria's cart, and we are surrounded by the most diligent of guards," Alejandro said. "You'd think you were personally related to royalty or something."

Ignacio grimaced a little, but maybe he'd deserved that snide comment. His ambition for his reputation at court had always driven him. It wasn't about to stop now.

"Max is captured, and Jerry is dead," Alejandro added. "Perhaps he will need to regroup to threaten us again. I think we are safe for the moment, my son."

Diego gasped for air.

"I told you to rest. Get your breathing a little calmer, it will feel a little easier," Alejandro said. "The cold compresses are working, but you need to give them time."

Ignacio moved away a little. He had eavesdropped for too long, he felt strangely uncomfortable. After a few moments, Diego was once again asleep in the back of the cart.

"How far now to the hacienda, Sergeant?" Alejandro called.

Mendoza came to the side of the cart and peeped over. "About half an hour now, Don Alejandro. How is he?"

Ignacio kept his eyes to the front for a while, and then scanned the horizon on all sides. Maybe Brownlow had given up for now, and was waiting to get new men to launch another attack. Not quite the madman he had taken him to be. A strategist and a clever one, but basically a coward. He was not willing to shed blood personally, but he would pay handsomely for someone else to pull the trigger for him. It would feel good to see the man hang, and Ignacio was sure it would not be interrupted by Zorro.

That was, if the Fox was still alive. He had thought that Zorro had been the one to shoot Jerry, but Felipe had done that. The teenager was a great shot. The bullet had gone neatly between the eyes. A shot in a million, but the boy had not reacted with shock from the kill like he would have expected. Obviously it was to come further down the track, but Felipe de la Vega was only thinking of saving his father from a murderer. If only the boy could speak, he could join the military. A natural talent like that deserved to be nurtured.

Maybe it was being nurtured? Felipe was known to scamper about in the hills while not doing chores. Every child in the pueblo did from time to time. But perhaps he was not merely fishing or riding? Maybe he was meeting someone for lessons in shooting like that? No teenager could just pick up a weapon and fire it expertly like that, not on the first go.

Ignacio noticed Alejandro had climbed up next to Victoria, on the driver's seat. Felipe remained to shelter Diego, shifting blankets and cushioning materials to where Alejandro had sat before.

The two of them entered into a hushed conversation. Ignacio watched their faces carefully. Fears and worries flickered in her eyes, and Alejandro maintained a peaceful, calm expression so as not to worry her further. The ultimate gentleman….

Ignacio noticed the pain in the older man's eyes as he cast a look over his shoulder at his son. Diego was very weak. Perhaps he could die from his wounds? Ignacio sighed. Diego was not a strong man, and never had been. He hoped for the older man's sake that Diego would find the strength he needed.


	9. Ignacio's Ponderings

Ignacio's Office

Ignacio directed his men to stand back for the de la Vega servants to take over with lifting and carrying Diego to bed. He paused and would have talked to Alejandro but the man was immensely distracted. Ignacio couldn't blame him.

He watched the servants shift the young man. They were not the gentlest men in the world, and there was a moment where Ignacio had flinched for Alejandro's sake. One of the men had almost dropped the young man. Ignacio was a little alarmed. Diego was so deeply asleep that he didn't feel the agony such a fumble should have sparked. Diego was drifting deeper into unconsciousness and it was never a great sign for recovery.

Alejandro didn't even acknowledge the Alcalde's existence as he followed his son into the hacienda. The teenager was at his grandfather's heels like a spaniel.

"Mendoza, ride ahead on my horse and get the doctor," Ignacio said briskly. "I need 5 lancers to remain to help secure the hacienda. The rest of you will return to the pueblo."

He climbed aboard Victoria's cart, without being invited, and half expected the woman to shove him off. Normally she would have had something to say about his intrusion.

"Senorita," Ignacio said. "You don't mind?"

"Huh?" She was glancing at the hacienda with longing in her eyes. She sighed, and turned her attention to him reluctantly. "What did you say?"

"Never mind," Ignacio said quietly. He had seen the despair in her eyes, concern for a man she obviously loved. "Why don't you stay? Don Alejandro relies so much on your strength…"

She stared at him with surprise, and he felt surprised as well. He was not normally so thoughtful. Speaking his thoughts was not normal for him either.

"I can't…I just can't…"

Ignacio took the reins, and had an urge to throw a blanket over her, but didn't push his luck. He urged the horse into a fast canter, and let the animal have its head a little. The horse knew its way home to its own stable. He glanced at the woman next to him.

Speech was not appropriate he realised, and soon became lost in his thoughts. The lancers were behind him, lost in the dust of the cart. He kept his hand near the pistol he carried, and his eyes were keeping a close watch for danger. He had no wish to be ambushed, either by bandits or a jealous Zorro – although the man always knew when Victoria was seriously in danger. This afternoon he was merely escorting the lady safely home to the tavern, and somehow he realised that Zorro would know that.

"Thank you, Alcalde," Victoria said softly, as he helped her down out of her cart. Pilar, the other tavern worker, came to meet the cart, and Victoria gratefully accepted her help. Ignacio was left with the cart. Glancing around, he realised there was no one else to stable the horse and unharness the animal. He sighed, and set about doing just that. It was beneath him, of course, but he knew how to do it. He felt for the animal, and made sure there was food and water for the horse.

The lancers were yet to arrive in the pueblo, and Ignacio needed to think for a moment. He grabbed a curry brush and began to brush down the horse. He felt for a moment as if he was back in his father's home, doing chores. It seemed to calm his mind, and empty it of all emotion.

The rhythm was soothing, and soon the horse was gleaming. It had never been groomed so well in its life, and it seemed to enjoy it. He heard the clamour of the lancers returning, and placed the curry brush down.

"Mendoza!" He yelled, striding out of the stables to seek his sergeant. "Where are you?"

"Here, Alcalde," Mendoza said with a rush of feet. "The doctor is on his way out to the de la Vega hacienda. Two lancers are escorting him…"

Ignacio glanced at him thoughtfully. Good work, he thought. "I want the men on high alert. Brownlow is a dangerous man. He may try anything."

He strode to his office and paused in the doorway, his eyes falling on Machiavelli's portrait on the wall. Did that man ever have any enjoyment in his life, any true friends? The pursuit of power was a goal that brought accomplishment and prestige. It also brought emptiness and pain. No real friends, no real family, and with Zorro around, no real power anyway. He was always around to thwart his ambition.

The pueblo loved the masked man, and they didn't even know who he was. It drove Ignacio to distraction. He did not have to threaten, to hurt people or to boast and brag to anyone. Although most of his actions were extremely well accomplished, almost as if he was showing off. If Ignacio upped the activity level in the pueblo, such as increasing tax levels, Zorro would counteract it with measures of his own. Like a chess game. It was sometimes exhilarating to have such an opponent. It was never boring with the Fox at large.

He made his way to his desk. It had been his predecessor's. He had heard rumours that the previous Alcalde had been the devil incarnate. Falling to his death at the Devil's Fortress, the man had had no one to grieve him. People said that out of the two of them, Zorro had been a lot more violent with Luis Ramon than himself. Ramon had been threatened a lot more physically.

Mendoza had told Ignacio of the time near Christmas a few years ago when Ramon had been at the point of a sword, and he had been sure that the blade would have been thrust through his heart. He had been punched in the face – repeatedly. Zorro had lost his senses for a moment, and Ramon had feared for his life. Mendoza had disliked his old Alcalde intensely, but the sergeant seemed to feel sorry for Ramon. Perhaps some sort of personal tragedy that Zorro had blamed the Alcalde personally for?

Ignacio knew he had never been seriously threatened by Zorro. Not in that way. Zorro threatened his reputation, not his life. He did loosely threaten, but as a matter of habit not of intent. Perhaps Zorro thought he was capable of change? To be an Alcalde worthy of supporting?

He wondered what it would be like to be supported by Zorro. The town was already supported by the masked hero. Sieges and visiting tyrants had been dealt with, Zorro always dealt with external threats as quickly as possible.

Ignacio traced the faint Z scars that covered the desk. They were few and light, but they were there. He sat on his seat.

Putting his head in his hands, he stared into space. He picked up a pen and began to doodle and write on the paper in front of him.

_Who is Zorro?_ He stared at the question he had not meant to write. Who indeed? Did he really want to know?

_Zorro is…_ He stopped. Did he really want to confront the unmasked Fox? All those bandits he brought in, that Ignacio took credit for with no reprisals… did he want to forgo future reward money? Zorro was the guardian angel of Los Angeles. Did he truly wish to expose him? Part of him screamed yes…part of him hesitated. My enemy's enemy is my friend…even Machiavelli attested to that. Did he truly want to betray that? No…not really, not deep down. He liked the way Zorro boosted his status when he felt like it. He wouldn't want to have to do everything that Zorro had done all by himself. He was curious, though. Who was the masked man? He needed to know, for his own curiosity.

_Zorro is tall._ The pen wrote, and he paused. Yes, he was tall. Very tall. What colour eyes did he have? He could have sworn his masked hero had blue eyes. _Zorro has blue eyes. Zorro has money. Zorro was trained at Madrid._ Ignacio paused and almost scratched that one out. How was he sure? He didn't know, all he knew right then was that he was right.

What else could he remember? What else could he reason out? He needed to look at Luis Ramon's files.


	10. Luis Ramon's Files

Luis Ramon's Files

Ignacio looked down at his growing list. It was a start. The start of what he couldn't say. It was getting darker. Soon it would be night. He sighed, and looked up. He half expected Zorro to be lounging in his unique way in the doorway, with the sabre drawn. No one was there.

"Mendoza!" He yelled, immediately impatient. The soldier ran headlong into the room, with his sword drawn. Mendoza had assumed he was under attack. He sighed, and watched as Mendoza patted himself down. The sergeant seemed flustered.

"I need all of the files on Zorro. I know Alcalde Ramon had files. I'd like to see them. All of them," Ignacio said softly.

"There are many files, Alcalde," Mendoza said a little doubtfully. Ignacio felt his frustration levels rise. The sergeant was considering refusing a direct order, he was sure of it.

He remembered something his mother used to say, a very long time ago. She had died when he was ten, so it had been a while. She had said, "Ignacio, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.." or something similar. He had never understood why someone would want to catch flies anyway, and had lost the point. Ignacio remembered her smile and her kindness, even in the face of his father's inevitable drunken rages. She had died in childbirth – his youngest sister had survived, but his beloved mother had not. He had never forgiven his sister, never.

"Please, Mendoza. It may help us to locate him," Ignacio said. 'Please' grated on his nerves.

"He saved Don Diego. I think he's better left alone," Mendoza said thoughtfully.

Ignacio glared at him. So much for honey! "Mendoza, the files! Now!" He bellowed. "Consider your pay docked by half this week!"

The sergeant was pushing his luck lately, ever since he had saved him from Risendo's mad fury. He acted more like a brother than an underling, and it would not be tolerated.

Mendoza gulped and ran. He was soon back with the files. He carried a pile, and two lancers carried two more. Ignacio frowned. There was a lot of work there. He watched as the soldiers placed them carefully on the desk.

If he read them well, he would be able to find clues his predecessor had missed. Ramon had been a hot head, greedy for land and power. A lot like himself, really, when he thought about it. Ignacio picked up the first file. They were in order – it was the first instance of Zorro's interference in Los Angeles.

Luis Ramon had been punishing men for not paying their taxes, by forcing them into hard labour. Something Zorro would never stand for now. Ignacio had dared once and then had dropped it. It was a sore point with Zorro – slavery of any kind.

Victoria Escalante had been formenting rebellion in the tavern and had been arrested. Don Alejandro had punched Luis Ramon in the face, and earned himself a cell as well. So far so good. Ignacio could see why they had been punished. It would discourage revolt and rebellion if Ramon was seen to be harsh on his opposition. A powerful caballero forced to support the Alcalde under pain of death was a tactic that seemed fesible to Ignacio. He wouldn't try it himself. He had enough trouble with Zorro as it was.

Don Diego had protested his father's arrest. Understandably. Diego had protested most ardently, and aggressively. Interesting. Ramon had threatened removal of land and removal of wealth, if there was an uprising amongst the caballeros. Ramon added in the file that Diego's eyes had been thunderous with rage, but the young man had left his office in full control of his temper. Diego's eyes were never thunderous, Ignacio thought. Were they?

Ramon stated in his notes that Don Diego had only just returned from Madrid. His first day back, and he just needed to know where he stood. Ignacio thought it was a reasonable tactic. It sounded out the young man, and revealed him to be a man of words, not heroic deeds. He had been incredibly angry, and the potential had been there to stage a revolt. The caballeros followed the de la Vegas in all things. Diego would merely have had to say the word, and he would have had an army behind him. Luis Ramon was only one man after all.

Luis Ramon had left a note at the bottom of the page: "see other section re Diego de la Vega". Ignacio smiled. Ramon had had issue with the young man as well. There were files on Don Diego as well as Zorro.

Zorro had released the two prisoners that very night. Easily overpowering the garrison, it had been repeated over the years. The following day Ramon had retaliated with an attempt at hanging the pair. Zorro had responded with a flying machine, resembling a bat, and putting the entire garrison into trembles. He had his magnificent stallion, and his fine sabre and he was definitely there to stay.

He glanced up from the notes. _Zorro is…_ He paused. _Zorro is a magnificent horseman. Zorro is a trained sabre master. Zorro is committed to freedom of the people. Zorro is attached to Victoria Escalante. Zorro defends Alejandro de la Vega. Zorro is incredibly smart. Zorro is injured. Zorro's first appearance…_ Ignacio looked up, and sighed. Zorro's first appearance was the first day Diego appeared in the pueblo after many years.

_Diego is…_ Ignacio wrote and bit his lip. _Diego is tall. Diego is injured. Diego is wealthy. Diego was educated in Spain. Diego is the son of a magnificent horseman and swordsman. Diego is believed to be in love with Victoria Escalante. Diego would defend his father, obviously. Diego is committed to the freedom of the people. Diego is incredibly smart. Diego's first appearance coincides with the first appearance of Zorro._ He wrote down these things quickly, without much thought. On rereading the points, he shuddered with the clear evidence before him. He had no need to read any further. Diego was Zorro.


	11. Victoria's Hysteria

Victoria's Hysteria - Ignacio's POV

It was a bright sunny morning, and the Alcalde woke with a start in his chair at his desk. The papers from last night were scattered around him, and as his eyes focused he realised that it had not been a strange dream after all. Zorro was Diego. Diego was Zorro.

What to do about the matter intrigued him. Power was at his fingertips. Power over the caballeros. Power over Zorro. He could even blackmail the de la Vegas for favours, if he chose. Alejandro had already proved his dedication and zeal for keeping his son safe. Three chests of gold attested to the lengths he would go to retrieve his son. Ignacio realised he would be wealthy beyond his wildest dreams.

If he was to strike at Zorro he would have to do it soon. Zorro at peak fitness would kill him for threatening his family. After seeing the scratch oozing blood on Risendo's neck, he realised that Zorro had limits to his immense patience. Injuries from the infamous sabre had been few and far between, but they were possible. Therefore death could be a risk he took if he confronted him personally.

If he struck at Zorro, his regular reward money for wanted men would dwindle to a pittance. Zorro handed bandits to the jail every day, and stood back while he pocketed the reward money that rightfully should go to Zorro. Trouble would increase threefold, and Ignacio would have to pick up his game big time. The luxury of sleeping late and lounging about in the tavern with the dons would soon be a thing of the past, if Zorro was not doing his share.

In the long run, it was probably better to keep silent about the fact that he knew. He could maintain business as usual, until such a time when the benefits for delivering Diego into custody outweighed the huge negatives. He didn't really have any evidence at this stage. It was only the ideas in his head. His colleagues may even laugh him out of the territory for suggesting the idea out loud. Diego was a brilliant actor. His family was in favour with the royal family of Spain. No, the negatives outweighed the positives in this case, far beyond reason.

He frowned thoughtfully, and stroked his beard. If he got on good terms with Alejandro and Diego, Zorro would perhaps be even more an ally. If he calmed down the aggression visited on the 'People', Zorro's animosity would certainly calm down in turn. Would the ends justify the means? Would the peace and security of Zorro at almost his beck and call, justify the disgustingly sweet behaviour he would have to extend to all and sundry?

He rose from his desk and walked over to the door. Opening it, he stared out at the street outside. It was reasonably peaceful. Looks had been deceiving in the past, he remembered. He could see the Tavern from his viewpoint.

He wondered how Victoria Escalante was this fine morning. He wondered how Diego had fared during the night. One drawback filtered through to his mind – how did Diego get around as Zorro with a major concussion? It seemed impossible to him for a moment. He shook his head. Zorro was impossible – an enigma. He was capable of extraordinary feats. It was just another example of his legend. There was obviously a trick in there somewhere.

Ignacio paused and watched the passers-by with disinterest. Madrid was a world away from this dustbowl, but it seemed shallow when he thought about it. The battle of class against class, the constant battle of one-upmanship was exhausting. He had forgotten that. Zorro had been a quick fix to fame and status – only it had taken three years already, and it didn't seem any closer since the day he arrived.

He walked to the Tavern, intent on checking Victoria. The woman had beared the situation well enough yesterday, but today it may well be a different story. Soldiers were capable of great heroics in the heat of battle, but the dawn of the next day would bring the pain of injuries forgotten. She was just a woman. Even if she was the ideal mate for Zorro. He thought for a moment. Yes, he would consider her Zorro's equal in most things – although she always responded with high drama when anyone removed the mask. A feeble woman after all, she consistently fainted into Diego's quick thinking arms. The man was light on his feet, he would give him that.

He eased himself gracefully through the doors, and sat at his normal table. As usual, no one greeted him, and for once he didn't go out of his way to ingratiate himself with the dons in the room. He sat back and prepared to watch and learn more of his enemy – "friend". My enemy's enemy is my friend, he reminded himself. The bandits in the territory were his real enemy. Zorro was too law abiding to be a threat to Los Angeles.

"Amazing how your son managed to escape…" Don Sebastian said, as he greeted Don Alejandro. Ignacio's eyebrow gently rose, but he remained thoughtful. So Diego was well enough for Alejandro to leave the hacienda. That was a good sign. He would have to send some more lancers to help secure the estate, to keep his word to the old man. He would have to do as he said he would do, if he was to impress the local hero.

Don Alejandro walked through the Tavern, greeted by every don in the room. There seemed to be a number of them.

"De la Vega, your boy is the luckiest man in the territory…"

"Yes, yes. Diego is recovering nicely. It will just take a bit of time, that's all," Alejandro said. "I do believe Zorro was in the area, and offered his assistance."

"Of course, Zorro is a great man."

Ignacio sneered despite himself. Zorro is a great man, he thought. A great fraud, really. The man was nothing like he pretended. Diego was not the super pacifist scholar that he pretended to be. Zorro was not the impossible hero everyone expected him to be. Somewhere in the middle was the real man. Had anyone ever seen the real Diego de la Vega? It was hard to imagine. Perhaps his sword master at Madrid.

Victoria had seen Don Alejandro enter the tavern, and seemed incredibly interested. She had customers to see to, however, and was delayed by a few minutes. She eventually made her way over to the older man.

"How is he?" She whispered intensely. Her voice carried a lot further than she meant it to. Everyone in the Tavern caught the words, and everyone lowered their voices to hear more. Some people gave her a strange look.

"He is recovering quickly," Alejandro assured her. She sat with him for a few moments, her hands fidgeting with her skirt. Her eyes were wide and red from lack of sleep, and her face was as white as snow. It was normally as tanned as the rest of her. She was obviously on the verge of a breakdown.

"I was so worried, Don Alejandro. So worried," she murmured. "Should I ask Pilar to take over the tavern for a while? Should I go to him?"

Alejandro shook his head. "Felipe is with him. He is in the best of hands."

"Diego often sits at the bar…" Ignacio heard the words, and realised that the woman was staring at the bar stools like she had seen a ghost.

"Yes," Victoria breathed. "Every day…," she added. "When everyone said he was dead, the feeling he would never, ever sit there again….well, it was a hard couple of days. When I saw that man strangling him, I thought, I thought…" She put her head in her hands suddenly, startling the old man.

Ignacio sighed. It had been inevitable that she would react like that eventually. The old man seemed startled, but he hadn't been around women for a long time. He had become unused to their ways. Ignacio thought about helping Alejandro but decided against it. The smelling salts in his private quarters would remain there for now. His attentions would be incredibly unwelcome anyway.

Ignacio watched as the old man began to stroke her back gently, as if instinctively. She was obviously close to some sort of breakdown. Pilar was glancing at her employer and fidgeting with her wiping rag. Alejandro beckoned her over.

"I think she's a little overwrought," Alejandro said softly.

"A little overwrought! Don Alejandro, that man is my heart!" Victoria half shouted. Absolute silence reigned in the tavern. Everyone heard her words. "I can't bear it!"

"Sergeant," Alejandro called. The surprised soldier rushed over.

"Don Alejandro, is she talking about Don Diego?"

"I think we need Dr Hernandez right now," Alejandro said, wondering if he should answer the question.

The sergeant grabbed a private and sent him for the doctor. Ignacio smiled a little, he had been forgotten in the drama of the situation. It happened a bit lately.

"I need to see him, Don Alejandro! Right now!" Victoria continued. Alejandro hesitated, and then helped her to her feet. "He could be dying! You shouldn't have left him!"

Alejandro glanced around the room nervously, and eventually met Ignacio's eyes. Ignacio arched a curious eyebrow at the older man, and Alejandro frowned. Murmurings were going up slowly. Mendoza helped Alejandro walk Victoria out the back to her cart, determined to help her avoid further rumour. Ignacio slowly followed them, hanging back a little, so as not to draw attention to himself. He moved to the back door, and watched them.

"Perhaps she is talking about Diego, sergeant. She was very upset over him, and she still is. Perhaps deep down she loves him and didn't know," Alejandro offered, clearly bewildered. He helped her into the back of the cart and draped a blanket around her. "You don't happen to have any smelling salts, do you?"

Mendoza slowly shook his head. "Didn't think so," Alejandro murmured. "Can you lead Dulcinea out here and tether her to the cart? I'm afraid I have my arms full right now."

"Si, senor."

Ignacio sneered a little. Dulcinea was a nightmare of a horse. A demon in any hands other than Alejandro's. It was likely his sergeant would at least be bitten, if not kicked by the mare.

Surprisingly, Dulcinea was on her best behaviour for the lancer, and allowed him to lead her out to Alejandro without any fuss whatsoever. No one was more surprised than the sergeant himself.

"I will inform Hernandez that you are going home," Mendoza said softly.

Alejandro swung himself up into the driving seat of the cart, and turned his head. Ignacio caught the man's eye again, and saw the older man hesitate just a moment before he raised a hand in farewell. Then Don Alejandro urged the horse into a fast walk, and concentrated on his journey.


	12. Ignacio's Defences

Ignacio's Defences

Ignacio ate his lunch at the Tavern. It was well done as usual, and as usual he complained about something trivial. It wouldn't do to be completely stupid. Besides it was fun to irritate people. He'd been doing it most of his life. Why would he want to stop now?

The bustle of a troop of soldiers entering the pueblo came to everyone's attention. He rose and went to the door. The governor's men had arrived to do their duty in defending the de la Vega hacienda and estate from Harry Brownlow and his inevitable retribution. The man was smart but completely insane. It made him incredibly dangerous. Ignacio knew for sure that Zorro would not be capable of riding to anyone's rescue and it chilled his blood.

The iciness in his system cleared his head a little. Back in Madrid, he was never complacent. He had always watched his back, because no one else was going to. Friends were deceitful and treacherous. He had learned that from experience. The best way to counteract that sort of treatment was to get them before they got him. He had lost true friends, he would admit that. He had also punished his false friends with devastating blows. The true taste of determination and with it the potential for death or glory flooded his system, just like it had on all those previous times as a soldier. No Zorro backed him up when he had struggled through the ranks. He had stayed a sergeant for 5 years, just because of someone's spite. He had worked and dedicated himself to his own advancement, and he had pushed forward through the ceiling that had held him in his class. He was a borderline gentleman.

He greeted the governor's sergeant and was impressed with their presentation. Their uniforms were perfect, and standing to attention, they brought back memories of days when Spanish military might was envied.

"I am the Alcalde of this pueblo. Ignacio de Sotto," he introduced himself, holding out his gloved hand.

"We know who you are," the sergeant said with a touch of disdain in his voice. Ignacio dropped his hand with annoyance. "We need to be directed to the de la Vega estate, Alcalde."

"I am sending some more men out there as we speak. They can escort you," Ignacio said with distaste. "Of course I will be riding out with them. You are welcome to join me," he added, thinking better of his attitude. Playing nice was certainly going to be terribly hard on him.

The sergeant nodded silently, and they all travelled together. The sergeant from the governor rode beside him and did not speak. So much for team work and collaboration, Ignacio thought.

He thought about Diego. Victoria had not returned from the de la Vega's estate. Mendoza had said that the doctor had disallowed any travel, and had prescribed bed rest. Diego was recovering slowly, as far as anyone knew. It was only a few days since he had returned, and his injuries had been severe. Nevertheless, he half expected to see Zorro watching from a vantage point well outside the range of anyone's muskets. The soldiers were new to the pueblo, and as such a potential threat. Zorro seemed to be aware of potential threats almost before anyone else had even noticed strangers in the district. He obviously had keen observation skills.

Harry Brownlow was still at large and that made the man dangerous. He was surely watching and waiting for the perfect time at which to strike at the de la Vega family. He eyed the sergeant and his men. They were clearly well trained and confident in what they had been ordered to do. The Spanish military was one of the best in the world. Could it be that they were slightly overconfident? He wondered what Zorro would have made of their fancy, pristine uniforms and their shiny rapiers. Did they truly have what it took to do battle in California? Or did their pride predict their certain doom?

They arrived at the estate and handed their horses into the able hands of Alejandro's top grooms. The Alcalde took charge of the men, and they followed his lead as he walked to the front door. He rapped on the door, with a certain degree of expectation.

Felipe answered the door, and peeped through at Ignacio with a strange look on his face, as if he was sizing him up. He had never noticed it before. The teenager's eyes flickered over his shoulder and widened at the troop behind him. The governor's sergeant and Ignacio were cautiously allowed entry, and Felipe disappeared into the back of the hacienda.

"He's fetching Don Alejandro," Ignacio explained. "The boy is deaf and dumb…"

The sergeant stared at him for a moment. Ignacio stared at the floor, and cooled a sense of rage at the man. Anger seemed to undermine him so often these days. It was a weakness he needed to squash.

Ignacio and the sergeant stood for a few moments just inside the door. Ignacio eyed the library, and began to wander over to the armchair near the fireplace. The sergeant stayed at his post.

There was a sudden rush of activity that attracted the attention of both the men. Ignacio rose from the seat he had just sat down on, and glanced towards the noise. The sergeant raised a musket and together they ran lightly towards the sound.

"Felipe!" Don Alejandro called from deeper in the house. "Diego is rushing about the hacienda again. I'll need some help with him. And some cactus tea…"

Ignacio watched as the sergeant relaxed a little, and lowered the musket. Curiosity fuelled a need to work out what was going on. Surely Diego was too ill for rushing around the hacienda? Walking further into the home, Ignacio saw the young man. He was leaning heavily against a door frame, trying to catch his breath. He was as white as a freshly laundered sheet. Ignacio almost moved to catch the caballero. Surely his legs would give way at any moment? The Alcalde hesitated.

"Diego," Ignacio heard the doctor say sharply. Ignacio relaxed a little. The medical man was good at his job. He would soon have the matter well in hand. Alejandro reached them just then. "Catch your son, Alejandro…"

Diego passed out, and Alejandro quickly caught his son, and gently lowered him to the floor. Hernandez stepped out of the room, and examined the young man.

"He's suffered a shock?" The doctor said, thoughtfully.

"I didn't realise it would cause this reaction…" Alejandro admitted. Hernandez shook his head, as he felt Diego's wrist. As the doctor fanned Diego, Ignacio could see that the caballero was already recovering.

"What are you doing, young man? Racing about after lying so still for days is going to cause these effects, Diego." Hernandez questioned the groggy but rapidly recovering man.

Diego nodded vaguely. He seemed to be struggling against the doctor.

"No. Lie still for a few moments. You will just faint again if you rush." Hernandez cautioned, holding the young man down firmly.

Victoria came out of the room, a little worried. It was obviously her bedchamber.

"Diego, what on earth are you doing? You need to be in bed," she murmured.

"You agreed to an arranged marriage?" Ignacio heard Diego's breathless question, but was a little taken aback by it. Arranged marriage? It made no sense on a political or social level. What was the point to the alliance?

"To you. I thought it would be agreeable to both of us," Victoria said softly. "I love you. I want to be with you."

So that was it. True love and all its perfect ideals. What would Zorro have to say?

"What about Zorro?" Diego whispered, as if reading Ignacio's mind.

"Yes, what about Zorro, Senorita?" Ignacio's voice was powerful in the stunned silence of the room.

"Don't upset my patients, Alcalde. They are both very weak and close to nervous breakdowns," Hernandez said, like a mother hen with her chicks. He half expected the man to fly at him and drive him out of the house by force. "I will not have their recovery jeopardised."

"Zorro is a big man, a legend. I want a man of flesh and blood. I can't live with a legend," Victoria said softly, her eyes fixed on Diego. "Zorro said he expected that Diego was more the man for me, anyway. A long time ago. I didn't see my love for him then, but I see it now. I almost lost my chance. I will not lose it now."

"And what does Diego say? He may well be challenged over this…" Ignacio said with a trace of humour. They were unaware of his jest, but he was enjoying himself. He watched their faces with interest. Concern flickered over both of their faces, and Victoria's pulse in her neck throbbed a little.

"Zorro is a noble man, a man of principles and ideals. I'm sure he will understand in time," Victoria said.

"Diego?" The Alcalde was not going to leave it. It was too much fun.

"I…I have always loved her. Zorro was the only thing standing in my way," Diego admitted slowly. "Her love for him stood in my way…"

"Do you think Zorro will just share your principles? Her love for you will stop him from killing you?" The teasing was cruel, but they wanted to play the game, and they deserved what they got.

"Alcalde, the man is the champion of the people. He isn't a cold blooded murderer. Diego would not have a chance against the man, and he knows it. Victoria's love would turn to hate, if Zorro hurt one hair on Diego's head," Alejandro said, sternly. "Reason it out, man."

The Alcalde paused and thought. "Well, it sounds reasonable."

"Allow me to walk you to the door, Alcalde…" Alejandro said firmly. "As you know my son is having a protracted recovery, and is not a strong man at the moment."

Ignacio nodded, and they walked towards the door, where the sergeant was waiting for them. He was too well trained to let on if he had heard any of the private talk of the family.

"Don Alejandro, this is Sergeant Renaldo, of the governor's personal garrison," Ignacio said, introducing the soldier to the old man. "The sergeant will be taking personal responsibility for his men's conduct and military proficiency while they are here at the hacienda, Senor."

Alejandro nodded, and stared at the man in his pristine uniform for a trifle longer than was comfortable. Was he thinking that the man looked a little too perfect for their rough and tumble pueblo? Perhaps, because Alejandro was frowning slightly.

"I want the whole place surrounded…Not even a fox should be able to sneak in or out of this estate…" Alejandro said. Ignacio was watching his face as he spoke. The man was worried about his son in more than one way, he realised.


	13. Ignacio's Patrols

Ignacio's Patrols

Ignacio De Soto was patrolling the surrounds of the hacienda, as he had promised Don Alejandro the previous day. Mendoza was beside him, and every nook and cranny, crevice and corner was investigated. Mendoza was remarkably thorough. Ignacio nodded in a polite fashion to Sergeant Renaldo who was eying him a little suspiciously from the gateway. Clearly, he was making his own patrol.

Ignacio smirked a little. The sergeant didn't outrank him in military fashion, but his employer certainly did. They had to be on polite terms, so no yelling or thumping of tables could be contemplated. He hated it when his jurisdiction was superseded from others that far outranked him. No one had decided to oust him as yet. It must be that the record number of bandits had surpassed everyone else. Another positive of keeping Zorro in place.

The perimeter of the hacienda was deemed secure for now. It was nowhere near being as safe as it needed to be, but all the de la Vegas of the past had defended their home very successfully. The doors could be barred and the windows facing the road were small and narrow, or completely lacking. The windows in the private areas of the hacienda were a different story, opening out to private garden courtyards. These were walled, and secure to a point, but it was a weakness. All that glass would have cost a fortune. The windows at the back of the house could be an entry point worth extra watchfulness.

Ignacio was trying the gate to the courtyard that the library opened up to. The wedding would be performed in the library, not in a bedroom somewhere. Diego's pride had obviously won the day at some point. It was rumoured to be a rushed wedding, because the health of the groom was deteriorating. He was not very strong, but he was recovering quite fast. Alejandro had clearly used the situation to rush through the wedding for other reasons. Perhaps Zorro was not the perfect hero after all? Perhaps Victoria was not as innocent as she appeared?

There was a thunderous crash, and Ignacio forced open the gate. It was not locked, but it had been fastened firmly on the other side of the wall. He would break into the hacienda if need be, but he could see enough through the window.

Diego was red with rage. It seemed like he had flung the lid of the piano down hard. Papers scattered across the floor at his feet, and he was making no move to right the mess. Alejandro made his way over to his son, as if to assist him, and Diego moved his arm out of the way impulsively.

"Don't touch me!" Diego's voice was loud enough to be heard outside in the courtyard garden. Ignacio was a little shocked. He had never heard the force of Diego's anger before, at least, not without the mask firmly in place. The young man seemed to shake with anger, and his father looked more than a little worried.

"Alcalde," Mendoza said, at his elbow. "The men are ready to leave. They have finished their patrol."

Ignacio turned his head to listen to the sergeant, and nodded. It wasn't right for him to eavesdrop on the family. He kept doing it, though, out of curiosity. He'd like it better if some of his ideas were proven true. He could still be completely wrong about Diego being Zorro. It was possible. He had been wrong many times in the past year alone, and Zorro delighted in pointing it out at times.

He glanced through the window again, at the scene in the library. Diego was leaning heavily against the fireplace, his rage completely spent. Ignacio sighed, and left the courtyard with Mendoza. His pueblo needed to have its defences in place as well. He couldn't watch the hacienda all day. It was a waste of time. The governor's team were a brilliant group of men, and their reputations were what earned them their positions. They seemed to do everything by the book, and everything seemed above board in their organisation of things.

His horse cantered him back to Los Angeles, with Mendoza and half of the lancers returning behind him. Something nagged at the Alcalde, something was going too easily, it was all too easy. Zorro was not going to be a potential backup this time. Everything needed to be perfect in the defences. The other soldiers seemed to trust their own skills too much, and Ignacio's men relied on Zorro far too readily.

Handing his mare to a private to be stabled, he strode into his office. "Mendoza," he called, realising the man might wander off to the tavern at a moment's notice if he wasn't careful.

"Si, mi Alcalde?"

"I want the pueblo searched from top to bottom. Go through the tavern with some men and check for any strangers. Harry Brownlow may be in town already. He wants Diego dead – you do remember that, don't you?"

"Si, mi Alcalde…" He hesitated. "Alcalde, where is Zorro?"

"Zorro?"

"The men have been asking," Mendoza added. "They say he is dead. The bandits shot him and tied him up and left him to bake in the sun. We thought when we couldn't find him…"

"Who knows?" Ignacio said softly. His mind went back to the young man in the library. "Perhaps the masked menace crawled off somewhere to die in peace?"

Mendoza looked a little nervous. "Perhaps he did, mi Alcalde. What about helping Diego?"

"What?"

"Well, without Zorro around, how are we going to keep the de la Vegas safe?"

Ignacio bristled at the complete lack of faith. If Zorro had never been interfering the question would never have been asked. The sergeant would automatically know his duty. Luis Ramone had left a legacy of corruption and lazy soldiers. Ignacio preferred not to think about his own misdeeds. Zorro was born under Luis Ramone's tenure, and it was much easier to blame a dead man than himself.

"Zorro cannot be everywhere, or everything, sergeant. When did you transfer authority to the man anyway? I am the authority in this pueblo, not a bandit."

"Si, mi Alcalde," Mendoza said a little apologetic. "He was a superb fighter."

"That he was, Sergeant. I know greatness when I face it. Perhaps it is better that he did crawl away to die without witnesses. Whoever he was, there is no obvious local who is missing, so logically it means that he was not a resident of Los Angeles."

Ignacio was a little surprised at himself. He was covering for Diego, instinctively. He wondered why. But there was strategy in his actions. Diego was a force to be reckoned with, but he'd rather the man as an ally, than dead. He would never have thought so in the past, but he did now. Perhaps he could force an alliance with threats? He stroked his beard thoughtfully. It needed some thought.


	14. Ignacio's PreWedding Concerns

Ignacio's Pre Wedding Concerns

Ignacio was out the back of the hacienda, checking the perimeter of the buildings once more. Hearing the door open, he paused and watched Diego guide his father outside to the covered patio. The tall caballero was slightly off balance. He leant slightly on his father's arm.

They sat at the table, and a servant boy came and served them coffee and some rolls, before dashing off elsewhere quickly. There was still a lot to be done to prepare for the makeshift and hurried wedding.

The two men talked in hushed tones, as they sipped their hot coffee. Diego looked down at the coffee cup in his hand, as if avoiding his father's line of conversation. Ignacio was a little removed from the area, out of politeness, and couldn't catch the majority of the conversation.

"Diego," Alejandro tried again, a little louder. "Please…"

"This is the best coffee that I've ever tasted," Diego said a little loudly. He concentrated on the hot drink in front of him. Obviously, Diego did not want to talk to his father. Ignacio frowned a little. It was unlike the young man to be rude to his father. Diego had always seemed very attentive in the past, even if he clearly didn't like what his father had to say.

He wondered if Alejandro knew his son well enough to know his secret. Perhaps the old man did not know. He had been terrified for his son's life at the hands of desperate men, and that spoke more than anything. Diego had fooled his father for many years. Alejandro was genuinely disappointed in his son's lack of spirit most of the time. Alejandro had never seemed to be able to pretend anything. His emotions were always so obvious. Of course, Diego had never told him anything about Zorro. It would all come out somehow, and would have by now; Alejandro would have given the game away.

Ignacio stroked his beard. Did Victoria know her hero well enough? Perhaps even she did not know. Zorro had declared at the onset of his career, that it was too dangerous to tell anyone who the man behind the mask was. It was all in the files Luis Ramone had kept.

The lady had been persuaded by her friends to give up her romance, and to marry for reasons of protection and safety and wealth. Her burning passion for the outlaw would have to be tamed to Diego's level of gentle complacency. How could the woman imagine living like that with so different a man to her love? Unless she had her ideas about Zorro's true identity? Had she forced herself to fall in love with her good friend, or had she already been in love?

The longer a man kept a secret like that from his family, the harder it was to tell the truth. He knew from his own experience. It had blown up in his face. A certain lady with a certain piece of his heart, left behind in Madrid - two fathers fuming and two hearts broken.

Diego looked around with what Ignacio viewed as a sense of panic, just a tiny sense of it. The man feared for his safety. Ignacio straightened his back and stood to attention a little self-consciously. He moved a little towards the two men, as if trying to assure them of his presence. Diego met his eyes and his dark eyebrow rose. Diego stiffened and then relaxed slowly. He nodded to Ignacio with Diego's customary style of politeness.

Alejandro pulled a piece of bread off the roll and put it in his mouth. "Try the rolls, son. They are quite good too."

Mendoza came up to them, and Diego offered the sergeant a bread roll. Mendoza took it gratefully.

"How are you, sergeant?" Diego said, greeting the sergeant, and then glancing Ignacio's way. Then his complete focus was on Mendoza.

"Very well, Don Diego. I am glad to see you up and about," Mendoza said, his voice booming. "We were all so worried for you. You've even got some colour in your cheeks."

Diego chuckled a little, and stretched out his long legs. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?" The young man said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Congratulations," Mendoza said hesitantly. "Zorro may…" He glanced nervously around him, turning in a tight circle. "He may interfere." Ignacio smiled. "If he is alive, that is…"

Ignacio watched Diego frown with concentration. Such a tiny frown…it was almost imperceptible.

"He's obviously a gentleman. He won't interfere," Diego said, soothingly. His eyes got a faraway look in them. What was the man thinking? Ignacio wondered. Alejandro seemed to stiffen a little.

"But to be on the safe side, how are our defences?" Diego's voice had a slight tremor of genuine fear. Ignacio could taste it in the air. His face betrayed nothing of anything, but the tremor had been there, wavering slightly in his voice.

"I am seeing to it personally, Don Diego," Ignacio said, interrupting his sergeant as he stepped forward. "I am going to check the other side of the hacienda. Don't be worried. Everything is under control."

Diego looked a little worried at that. So did Alejandro. Did no one have any trust in his abilities? Was everyone thinking he was a failure as a commander? He stormed off, but could imagine what they talked about in his absence.

He knew the governor's men were guarding every vantage point. They boasted that no one could get past them, not even a four legged fox. Boasting was foolish. He knew. He had boasted hundreds of times, and most of the time it was to no avail. He was not welcome to get in the way, and definitely not welcome to discuss tactics at this time. He had been advised to keep his distance, and stay out of the way. Without Zorro at large, he would have to try to think like the Fox, and be completely prepared for any eventuality.

ZZZZ

"Will you allow me to wash myself? Or am I incapable of that as well?" Diego's voice thundered. Everyone in the house could hear the rage in the young man's voice. Ignacio smirked a little. Clearly the man was being nagged by an overattentive father. It was doubtful the older man knew that Diego was Zorro. Diego was definitely losing his legendary patience.

Alejandro left the room, slamming the door. He had his hands in the air, and he was shaking his head with frustration. The old man paced up and down the corridor, and was unaware of the curious glances the little show had attracted. Ignacio felt sorry for the old man.

"Wedding nerves, Alejandro. Diego is just not himself today." One of the women ventured to explain to Alejandro.

"Did you argue?" Another lady inquired.

"The boy will be fine," her calm husband soothed.

Alejandro was starting to redden with barely controlled anger. He said nothing, and Ignacio realised it was because he could not trust himself not to fly off the handle at the well-meaning inquiries. Alejandro had never taken anyone's advice easily, and now it was flying at him thick and fast.

This day was going to be amusing in so many ways, but Ignacio hoped it was going to be an easy day, with no real threats manifesting themselves. There was a sense of foreboding in the air. Diego's nerves were contagious.


	15. Ignacio Guards the Wedding

Ignacio Guards the Wedding

Ignacio stood inside the library with the rest of the wedding guests. He felt out of place, and useless. The governor's men insisted on their expertise and had positioned themselves around the hacienda. Ignacio felt his eyes drift to the large windows in the library. He remembered how easy it had been to force the courtyard gate open. He thought about how easy it would be to smash the large windows, and gain entry into the hacienda. The wedding guests had decorative swords. Most were old men, and young untrained teenagers. There were many women in the room.

His nerves were on edge. Part of him delighted in the challenge – a small part. He had never been a great soldier, not on the battlefield anyway. Politically he could hold his own with the best of them. A battle would shortly take place, no matter how the governor's soldiers saw it. Ignacio could taste a tang in the air. He glanced at Diego with concern. He sat in the seat they had insisted on. He sat stiffly as if uncomfortable. Maybe he was wearing some sort of corset? He had known men who had, and they had sat the same way.

Of course….Zorro had been wounded. Bandages were under the shirt, red vest and red bolero jacket. Diego was Zorro. Just how wounded? Not seriously enough to be too weak, clearly. Why the heaviness of all those bandages under his clothes? He could see the young man wince a little, as he shifted a little uncomfortably. Diego turned his own eyes to meet Ignacio's. His eyes were the serious blue grey of Zorro, and Ignacio felt the thrill of danger in their depths.

Then the moment had passed. Diego turned his icy glare to his father, as if Ignacio had not really been a concern at all. Perhaps, Ignacio thought, it was his imagination after all.

Diego looked in his father's eyes, iciness turning to curiosity. He relaxed a little, but he was obviously angry. The stiffness of the young man's shoulders betrayed the emotion more than anything else. Ignacio wondered at that. The de la Vega family were always so close, so comfortable in each other's presence. On this day of all days, the pair should have been as close as always. Diego was afraid… Ignacio was amazed. If Diego was Zorro, why on earth would he fear for his life? He was smart and athletic and he could move like lightning.

Ignacio sighed. He had allowed himself to be caught up in the legend just like everyone else. The man was recovering from several serious wounds, and his balance was completely off. Anyone could see that. The man was not fit enough to pull a trigger let alone fight a duel. He was relying on other's to defend him, and it surely didn't sit right with the Fox.

He glanced at Alejandro. The older man was stiff with his own anger. Oh, they were proud, definitely. Alejandro was controlled to a great extent by his powerful temper, and obviously Diego shared some of that tendency.

Felipe stood beside Diego, as best man. His new green suit, almost identical to his own style, fitted him well, although Felipe felt uncomfortable in his new tie. Felipe scrubbed up well, for an urchin. He was turning out to be a very handsome young man, and a credit to the de la Vega family. Ignacio considered him carefully. Felipe was filling out and maturing. Muscles were maturing in his arms and chest. A swordsman in the making? Zorro's apprentice? His aim with the pistol was extraordinary. Soon the teenager would be a force to reckon with, just like all the de la Vegas before him. Another man to trick or tame to his liking. Somehow it didn't seem possible to trick or tame either Diego or Felipe. Alejandro, well, Ignacio thought that was pretty much impossible as well, so much so he had never considered the option.

The atmosphere shifted a tiny bit. Ignacio glanced around the room. Diego had relaxed a little, and when Ignacio glanced at Alejandro, the older man had a small smile on his face. Well, that was sorted then… There was a slight pause, and the piano began to play a short wedding march.

Victoria entered the room and made her way to her groom, on the arm of Don Alejandro. The dress was very pretty, and Diego looked like a lovesick puppy when he saw her. It was a good thing he was sitting down, because his eyes glazed over with wonder. Goodness knows what it would have done to his balance if he was standing at the time.

Padre Benitez led the service. The couple answered their questions and swore their vows clearly and proudly. When told to kiss the bride, Diego leaned forward and lightly kissed Victoria on the forehead, surprising most of the guests. The men shook their heads, laughing softly. Their ladies smiled at the man's gentility and silently wished the girl luck with her arranged marriage. Then Diego led her back down towards the dining room.

"My friends, let me introduce my beautiful wife, Dona Victoria de la Vega," Diego said proudly. She kissed him gently on the cheek, blushing slightly.

Ignacio watched them as they entered the dining hall to eat a light supper. He paused in the library and wondered what the best part of the hacienda for an intrusion might be. The library was a large windowed room, in the centre of the house. Perhaps the governor's men would welcome him in their formation out the front or out the back? From the comments he'd heard, not likely. Mendoza appeared at his shoulder, and he was glad of his company.

"Where do you think would be the best place to guard?"

Mendoza looked at him with curiosity.

"Are you talking to me, Alcalde?"

Ignacio grimaced a little. The surprise in his sergeant's voice cut him a little. Was he that much of a bully? He supposed so.

"Yes, Sergeant."

"The courtyard behind us. The soldiers are not patrolling it well. They don't want to disturb the family too much…"

"Better to disturb the family, than to let the family get cut down by the enemy," Ignacio said with disgust.

Ignacio and Mendoza left the hacienda through the glass doors and wandered into the rose garden that lay behind them. The perfume was strong and intriguing. Ignacio primed his pistol and made Mendoza ready his rifle. Several lancers were positioned with the soldiers, to boost the numbers. Sergeant Renaldo clearly found it hard to work with him, and he didn't blame him too much. Sergeant Renaldo was hard to work with as well. He preferred to stay away from the stubborn man. Ignacio felt his instincts sharpen as the minutes of tension wore on. He glanced at his Sergeant and realised he admired the man. Mendoza was loyal to the last. Brave when it mattered, which was not at all times, unfortunately, but when it mattered, it mattered. He owed his life to the short, pudgy buffoon. He was becoming a little like a brother to him. Not much but a little.

The sound of gunfire close to the hacienda woke them both up from their half doze. Curiously none of the guests screamed. The women were of local stock, and were not easily startled.

Ignacio stood, rising from his crouch against the wall, and tried to ascertain where the gunfire was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from the front of the hacienda. The governor's men were returning fire. The answering blasts of muskets were comforting in their way.

The dining hall was close to the front. The wedding guests were at risk of stray bullets and musket balls. The large windows in the dining hall were a risk as well. Why did the Dons have to waste so much money on glass for their windows? They were accidents waiting to happen. It was pride, nothing else could explain it. Their only purpose was to allow light into the rooms, and showcase the house decoratively.

The sound of breaking glass highlighted the point, and women finally screamed. Something needed to be done. Someone needed to do something. The wedding guests were fast becoming locked into a siege. Reinforcements would need to be gathered.

Fear and adrenalin surged through Ignacio. An urge to be the one to go for reinforcements almost drove him to run from the hacienda altogether. His men were nowhere near ready for serious deployment, so it would be a hopeless mission. He needed Zorro beside him. Zorro was trapped in the hacienda.

Then the firing died away. Then ice ran through his veins. Ignacio glanced at Mendoza who shuddered and crossed himself with a shaking hand. The soldiers had failed them. All thoughts of running were dismissed.


	16. Ignacio's Great Failure

Ignacio's Greatest Failure

The soldiers had fallen to their enemies. They had run away or been killed. Ignacio shook his head thoughtfully. The soldiers would have fought to the last man – they were elite soldiers. These mad bandits were a major force to be dealt with. There were two lancers in the courtyard with them. The rest had fallen. That left the four of them. Four men with four pistols. They were nothing against a crafty strategist. Think, Ignacio, think. The men outside with him instinctively looked to him for their safety and they were waiting for the next step. He looked down at the pistol in his hand. He looked across at the barely trained soldiers at his side.

"We deal with Zorro," Ignacio whispered. "What is this man to him?"

The lancers stood straighter. Zorro was a mighty foe and they had always made him run.

Ignacio shook his head at their instant bravado. He knew deep down they were no serious match for Zorro or these bandits. He knew they had to try. To save their own lives, they would have to face them. Zorro was not going to rescue them.

Alejandro and Diego were smart men. They were cornered. A cornered fox in nature was a dangerous beast. Dogs twice their size would be cut down with fierce teeth. Adventurous boys had been severely injured in approaching them. Injured foxes were even more cunning than normal.

Ignacio hoped the majority of the guests were safe. The bandit's madness seemed focussed on the de la Vegas, which was good in a way. The other dons were very powerful as well, and as a group they had more clout than one man grumbling on his own. Women and teenagers had been on the guest list as well.

Every hacienda had a wine cellar. Perhaps everyone was sheltering down in the coolness of that room. Ignacio realised that the de la Vegas themselves would prefer to fight. It was their home after all. The Fox would defend his own den. He had just been married….Ignacio realised with a shock that he shouldn't have felt that strategically the weakest link was Victoria. She was a vulnerability that Diego couldn't factor out. Victoria was a headstrong woman. Under threat, she had always risen up to confront it. Diego would have to tie the woman up to keep her from danger. Ignacio couldn't see any bridegroom wanting to do that. It would not be a good start to a peaceful relationship.

Ignacio crept closer to the large windows, gesturing the others to stay out of sight. He opened the glass doors silently, and beckoned the others to enter the hacienda before him. He closed the door quietly, and slid the lock into place. He glanced at the doors thoughtfully. It would be simple for the enemy to break the door down, rather than force the lock. The sound would alert them.

"You two…Guard this area. Your duty is to prevent any access to the hacienda from these doors," the Alcalde ordered softly. The men looked at the courtyard and the doors, and then looked at their leader. Doubt and fear lingered in the back of their eyes.

"I know you can do it," Ignacio said, forcing confidence into his voice. "You are trained soldiers in the best military army in the world."

They nodded, and swallowed. Then they assumed a defence position long drilled into them. Ignacio gave them a smile that never made it to his eyes. He felt the sense of false bravado run through his veins. Those men were likely to die within an hour or so, but he wasn't going to tell them that. Perhaps the bit of confidence he had given them would pay off? Who knows? Confidence was sometimes the only thing that won the day, in the end.

He made sure Mendoza was close behind him. The sergeant looked back at his men, and frowned.

"Don Diego is relying on someone to help him. The man is wounded. The attackers are undoubtedly Brownlow and his men. The others have fallen, Sergeant. We can't sit in the corner and hide…"

Mendoza shook himself. "Of course not, mi Alcalde. Who would consider it?"

That's the spirit, my friend. Ignacio prevented the other man to take the lead, surprising the sergeant. Ignacio noticed his surprise and wondered. Did he always hide behind his men? Was he such a coward that his own men instinctively sheltered him from danger? Mendoza was the weaker soldier than him, and the man had more goodness in him than Ignacio could ever imagine himself ever having.

"They were in the dining hall, weren't they?" Ignacio said softly. The hacienda was quiet, and Ignacio stopped. "Where is that from here?"

"Down that passageway there and to the right. The front door is towards the left."

Ignacio paused, and listened intently. There was not as much cover once they left the library. No furniture or plants in the passageway. Maybe the men had barricaded the dining hall. The dining table was heavy enough.

He glanced back towards the others. The door could cope with more defences. He could listen for movement elsewhere. The library was easier to defend. The huge fireplace could even be used as a defence hole. The strong sandstone structure could easily be a vantage point for a pistol shot. It had its vulnerabilities, but he didn't want to face death without a cover of any kind. In the passageway he would be a sitting duck.

"Mendoza, we need to defend the courtyard doors…" Ignacio said. Mendoza looked at him and he shrugged. "We are only two men, with two pistols. We need to find some advantage…"

A ceremonial sword hung in the library, he noticed with surprise. It hung on the wall, hidden off to the side. It was more decorative than substantial, but perhaps there was more weaponry in the library. Pistols in a drawer somewhere. Any locked drawers didn't need to be forced. Pistols needed to be easily accessed, so any weapons would be in the unlocked top drawers. He managed to find one pistol in the desk near the far side of the wall. It was light and small, and perhaps designed to be hidden in someone's clothes. A women's pistol perhaps? It was well maintained, oiled and clean, as if someone dedicated themselves to keeping it that way. Diego's pistol?

They heard movement and soft voices. Ignacio gestured to the others, and they all lightly ran towards the sound. Was that Diego's voice? The dining hall was a little way away, but they covered the distance quickly and quietly. The passageway opened up into a small alcove area large enough for a small table with two chairs. A large window covered most of the wall, bathing the area in golden sunlight. Ignacio caught movement in the corner of his eye, and gestured his men to get down and out of sight.

As he had half expected, the window shattered as the bandits crashed through it. He could see Diego and Victoria react with slight panic and shock. He hadn't realised they were so close. Diego had instinctively drawn his rapier, and Victoria seemed to startle and move forward to defend her husband. A large carving knife in her hand was quickly dashed to the floor, and a rough individual grasped her firmly. The outlaw covered her mouth with his hand, and the woman's eyes flashed fire.

Felipe was close by, and he let off a shot, narrowly missing Brownlow's head. The older man laughed at his near miss. Felipe paused and shook his head with disbelief. He started to ready the pistol in his hand for another shot, but Diego shook his head.

"Get out of here, Felipe. Now." Diego's voice boomed in the silence. The boy paused, and then scampered out of the broken window, with two men following close behind. Ignacio gestured to the two lancers to follow the bandits, and they did willingly – anything to get away from the tension and back into hero mentality.

Diego turned his attention back to the situation at hand. He seemed to realise his son could deal with the danger on his own. A cool calm confidence filled his eyes.

Alejandro moved to Diego's side. Ignacio stood unnoticed for a moment, as they all watched Victoria struggle in her assailant's grasp, powerless to escape and silenced by his hand. She fought back strongly, and then bit him hard. The man yelped and dropped her like a hot potato.

"I will break you, Diego de la Vega. You will be screaming for mercy by the time I am through with you. You will fall at my feet and beg me to kill you…" Brownlow said. He raised a pistol and pointed it at Victoria's head. Ignacio stiffened at the coldness in the man's eyes.

"Why would you shoot the lady, senor?" Alejandro said.

Brownlow glanced at him. "No reason," he murmured. "I just want to hear him scream…" The man moved his finger on the trigger, slow motion, finger movements. Ignacio fired his pistol, but he missed Brownlow completely, hitting and killing the other man instead.

Diego obviously imagining the woman he loved, dead in a pile of blood soaked silk, screamed, "No!" He leapt quickly in front of his bride, and the bullet cut through his shirt. Bleeding was instantaneous, and a little bit over dramatic. Ignacio felt his blood run cold. It must have reopened a previous wound, especially for it to gush so much so quickly. He imagined that the man was already dead, it must have been a kill shot.

He watched numbly as Alejandro and Victoria caught Diego as he fell. Leaning Diego against her lap, Victoria glanced up at Alejandro. Panic filled her eyes. Alejandro only had eyes for his son.

"Diego," Alejandro whispered. Ignacio thought he was talking to a dead man. The amount of blood was enough to tell him that. "Diego?"

Ignacio felt the shock hit, as Diego's eyes fluttered open. The man was quiet and pale, clearly in shock. Alejandro smiled shakily, in an attempt to be strong. Ignacio felt a shift in the environment. Sergeant Mendoza had the bandit at the point of his musket, and had forced the man to drop the weapon. He was glad the man had decided to be professional. Everyone else was frozen in shock. The outlaw could have reloaded and killed someone else by the time Ignacio would have felt capable to control the situation. Ignacio went through the motion of reloading his own pistol, confident that Mendoza had it mostly under control.

"Turn around with your hands in the air, Brownlow. You are under arrest." Ignacio's announcement brought all attention to himself for a split second.

"I'll be alright, Father. Trust me…" Alejandro shifted his son a little so that he could see his bride.

So much blood, Ignacio thought. How was the man even still breathing, let alone conscious and talking? Was he truly unstoppable, immortal? No, he was steadily weakening, he was dying. He only had a few moments left to him. Ignacio's soldier instinct was never wrong on those things.

"I love you. I'm sorry," Diego said softly. "I couldn't let him. I couldn't live without you."

His hand traced her face slowly and sighed, closing his eyes.

"I can't live without you, either, Diego. Don't die," Victoria said. "We don't deserve this."

Diego chuckled a little, without opening his eyes. He sagged against his father's lap. If he was breathing at all, it was imperceptible.

"I trust you, son. Believe me. I trust you," Alejandro said softly, holding him close, kissing him lightly on his hair. Ignacio saw the older man begin to rock his son, as if to soothe a child.

Ignacio could see that the young man was probably already dead. If there had been a strategy in this day, it had failed completely. There was no hope.


	17. Ignacio's Apology

Ignacio's Apology

Watching the grieving father cradle and rock his son, was sobering for Ignacio De Soto. Silent tears spilled down the older man's face, but he didn't have the sense to realise that he was weeping. Alejandro was always such a strong man. Emotionally heated at times, the man was volatile, but he had never seen him weep. Not even in those few days when everyone else had accepted Diego's death.

Victoria was sitting where she had held her husband, and couldn't take her eyes away from Diego's still form. Diego was so still and his shirt had quickly been drenched with his blood.

Ignacio felt a surge of rage, and before he could rein in the emotion, he swung his gloved fist up and hard into the unsuspecting outlaw's nose. A crunching sound told Ignacio, the nose was broken. Blood poured from the criminal's nostrils. Brownlow stumbled back under the blow. A smirk on the bandit's face earned him another blow, followed by another. The final blow knocked him cold, and the man fell like a stone at his feet.

No one had noticed the attack on the man. Only Mendoza stood amazed. Ignacio took out his white handkerchief and cleaned his leather glove with a calm acceptance. Alejandro and Victoria were unable to comprehend much at all, only that their whole world was now in pieces at their feet. Victoria's wedding dress was drenched in her bridegroom's blood, and she didn't even notice it. Alejandro's vest was covered in blood as well.

Felipe de la Vega scampered back into the room, and skidded to a stop. He turned brown eyes full of hate towards Ignacio. The Alcalde stepped calmly into the teenager's way, blocking the blood and the body of his father. No child should have to see their father covered in blood.

Felipe tried to push past him, a blur of teenage adrenalin. When he found that Ignacio wouldn't budge, the teenage boy shoved at him with both hands. The force was strong, and Ignacio responded by taking both of the hands, and holding them firmly.

"Stop." Ignacio's voice was calm and commanding. Felipe's eyes met his again. The noise of returning lancers seemed to ease the tension between the two of them.

"Don Felipe," Ignacio said, firmly. He felt the boy's pain; it hovered in the depths of his brown eyes. He felt his rage. The fire of injustice was driving the youngest member of the de la Vega family, and Ignacio was well aware of the fury of it burning through his system. He had felt it too many times himself to disregard it in someone else's eyes. It didn't mean he could allow any retribution, it didn't end that way. Politics and power were cruel masters.

"Don Felipe. We will need your help. Your father would want that," Ignacio said. "Your father…Victoria…they need your help…" Yes, Diego would want that. He saw the reasoning return to Felipe's eyes. The boy was very like his adopted father. Boyish foolishness tainted the reasoning and logic, but it was there, just beyond the pain.

Felipe pulled his hands out of Ignacio's grip. Felipe's eyes flickered back towards where his father's body lay. Then he nodded slowly. He took a steadying breath and blinked away the pain.

"Lancers," Ignacio said. "Help with the…help with Don Diego," he added. "Please…" He stumbled with his words, almost saying 'help with the body' as if Diego was merely a piece of meat. He frowned.

Alejandro protested slightly at the moving of his son. "Don Alejandro, I'm sure your son would be more comfortable in his own bed, senor," Ignacio murmured. He touched the older man on his shoulder to rouse the caballero. Alejandro nodded weakly and allowed the Alcalde to help him onto his feet. Alejandro took his own weight onto his own feet, and Ignacio turned his attention to Victoria.

Alejandro went across to his daughter in law, and helped her to her feet. He held her and she flung her arms around him for protection.

Alejandro and Victoria watched as soldiers lifted Diego and carried him to his room. Victoria broke out of Alejandro's embrace and quickly followed the men. Alejandro waited a few minutes, kneeling back down on the floor where he had cradled his son.

Ignacio watched as Alejandro touched the blood that coated the floor, and shake his head. The older man stood wearily and followed the others. Ignacio stood still and watched from the distance, as the older man paused in the doorway to Diego's room for a few moments, and turned away as Alejandro entered the room as if climbing the steps to a scaffold.

"Alcalde, he's alive…please, we need to get the doctor….there is a pulse….his heart is beating…." Victoria was soon at his side. Her hands grabbed at the lapels on his uniform, and the blood on the dress brushed against his regimental blue and red jacket. At any other time, he would worry about it, but the frenzy of the lady was tearing at his heart. He should have been the hero today. She shouldn't be grieving her husband on her wedding day.

"Senora," Ignacio said, reluctantly. "I am sorry that Diego's dead. The doctor will not be able to help…"

"I'm sick of this. There was a heartbeat, I felt it. Alejandro, Alcalde, help me…"

Alejandro put an arm around her. "I think we will leave and go to the tavern. We both need to get out of this place…."

"Diego, he needs help…"

"We will go to the tavern, and I will personally go for the doctor, Victoria. I swear to you." The older man said. "We will take the buggy to make it easier for both of us. We have both suffered an enormous shock."

She brightened a little and he guided her outside.

Felipe rushed into Diego's room, and Ignacio followed him. The boy obviously hadn't wanted to get in the way of his grandfather.

Ignacio gazed down at the still man. He was tall. His long legs were stretched out on top of the covers, emphasising his height. His dark hair was a mess, strands fell over his forehead and no one had tidied it, but his face was relaxed and he was at peace. Felipe impulsively tucked the strands back where they usually went, and smoothed the stray hairs from his forehead.

Ignacio raised Diego's right wrist out of curiosity. The man looked like he was asleep. A faint resting pulse throbbed weakly at his touch. He dropped Diego's arm like it was on fire. Felipe raised an eyebrow at his shock, and felt for the pulse at Diego's neck.

Felipe's eyes flickered over his father's body, suddenly lit by some emotion Ignacio couldn't understand. His hand went to Diego's shirt and unbuttoned two buttons that opened out just over where his heart was. Felipe slipped his hand into the exposed space. Felipe gasped aloud, and fell into the chair beside the bed. The teenager's eyes studied Diego's face once more, and then he took his hand out of the shirt and re-buttoned the shirt reverently. With a hand covered in blood, he took Diego's limp right hand and squeezed it gently. Then he stood and looked at Ignacio as if expecting the Alcalde to tell him to do something.

"The pulse means nothing, Don Felipe," Ignacio said softly. "It will be gone shortly…"

Felipe nodded calmly, and urged Ignacio out of the room, to the Alcalde's stunned surprise.

Once into the small foyer under the broken window, Felipe started signing with wild sweeping gestures. Ignacio shrugged. Most of what he was trying to communicate was not getting through. Irritation hovered in the teenager's eyes, but he shrugged as well, and turned away.

One of the lancers came over, a little hesitantly, with a strange glance over his shoulder at Felipe.

"The boy took down both of the men who were chasing him, mi Alcalde," the soldier said with a shocked undertone. "He was as quick as a rattler."

"Where are the men?"

"You don't understand, mi Alcalde. They're dead…"

Dead? The quiet, well behaved teenager had killed two burly adults without breaking a sweat. There were no scratches or any other injuries on Felipe. He seemed angry but calm. He recovered from the impending death of his beloved father within minutes. What was wrong with the child?

He opened his mouth to question Felipe but he closed it again. He wanted to ask how he had done it. He wanted to ask how a slip of a boy overpowered two killers without getting a scratch on him. No obvious bruises or grazes either. How had he managed it when his father had met with such brutality?

"How?" He asked the lancer at his arm.

"He picked up two rifles from the hands of dead soldiers in the front courtyard."

Felipe de la Vega had skills with rifles? Something flickered into Ignacio's memory. Well, he had discovered the mystery gunman at long last. Felipe had supported Zorro's onslaught on the Emissary Risendo's soldiers in the plaza all those months ago – hitting the soldiers' helmets with the bullets had been very effective and was completely overlooked at the time. Zorro had always been the focal point in anything to do with the masked man.

Zorro was dead if Diego was dead. The end of a legend. The death of their guardian angel. He could claim responsibility for ridding the territory of Zorro, even without a body or any other evidence. After a period of seven years he could declare the man legally dead even without evidence. He could return to the society he used to crave. The social whirl of educated men, the balls with all those beautiful women - women who knew their place wasn't standing in red dirt wielding pistols or carving knives on their wedding day.

Ignacio turned and stared out the broken window. Felipe stood attentive near his side. Ignacio glanced down at the unconscious Brownlow and saw him stir. He kicked him in the ribs and the man groaned in pain. Maybe he could offer Felipe a pistol and let him finish off his father's killer personally. He shook his head and kicked his prisoner again.

"That's for Diego…" He whispered. Brownlow's green eyes winced in pain. His hands and feet were tied securely and he was helpless. The outlaw grinned despite his pain, knowing he had obtained his goal. In his mind, he had won.

"This is from me…" Another kick to knock the man's smile off his face. Brownlow almost laughed at him and the Alcalde saw red. "This one, this one's for Zorro…"

Before he got the kick in, Felipe's hand touched him on his arm, making him pause. Felipe's eyes were stern and he shook his head. "No," he murmured. "Father…" He saw the protest in the teenager's eyes. He got the message. Zorro wouldn't kick the helpless man. He would not appreciate the man's treatment in his name. Zorro would have knocked the Alcalde off his feet for even attempting the deed.

"I'm sorry, Felipe." Ignacio said softly. He took the boy's shoulder and embraced him, as if to protect the boy from his own anger and thirst for vengeance. Diego had sheltered him. Felipe had lost his father and his hero in the same hour. Felipe was shocked, and soon extracted himself from the soldier's arms. Ignacio reached out and held him for a moment. The boy needed to listen to him. He could hear, he knew he could hear. "I'm sorry for everything. Believe me. I'm so sorry…"

Felipe pulled himself out of the man's grip, his warm brown eyes cold with anger. He shook his head hard, and waved his hands around, trying to communicate with Ignacio. It was clearly not positive.


	18. Ignacio's Tragedy

Ignacio's Tragedy

Ignacio De Soto felt moisture on his cheek, and as he brushed it away, he realised it belonged to himself. It was a tear. On his cheek. He was crying?

Felipe stared at him, and pushed him away. The boy didn't want any comfort from him, the Alcalde realised. He shook himself, and took a breath. He couldn't explain to himself what had just happened. Had he just begged Felipe for forgiveness?

Why on earth would he do that? The boy thought he was mad. Perhaps he was mad.

Mendoza cleared his throat. He had an urge to grab the man by the lapels of his uniform and shake him, but for once he resisted.

"Oh, yes. Mendoza…" He began. "We need to get this lump of humanity back to the pueblo. Put him in a cell…"

Mendoza saluted, and obeyed without speaking. Ignacio ran a hand through his blonde white hair, and began to pace. Felipe was watching him carefully.

Ignacio waited until the lancers left the area as well, and glanced back at the teenager. Felipe met his stare eye for eye. The boy was maturing too quickly into a man.

"I wasn't always like this," Ignacio said softly. "No, I was a child once too. I saw things…I did things….horrible things…" He sighed, and walked to the chair near the shards of glass. It would distance him from the calm de la Vega stare that didn't seem to have anything to do with blood relations.

He sighed again, as he brushed glass fragments from the seat. He sat, and turned to Felipe. The boy hadn't moved. The Alcalde closed his eyes. The memories would come either way, and he didn't want Felipe to see the naked horror in his eyes.

He had confronted his true love in the church on her wedding day. He didn't want her marrying her fiancé. If he abducted her from the altar, they would be able to be together. He didn't need his father's love and never asked for his respect. He thought himself a man at 21.

Armed with his father's rapier, he thought himself a man. Snatching the beautiful girl from the altar, he thought he would have his own way, she was his. He raced the buggy at terrifying speed towards the coast, only concentrating on escaping all the pursuing family members on both sides. They'd have to leave Europe completely to be safe. She had protested as he had grabbed her, she wanted her fiancé. Her parents had turned her against him and now she was terrified of the speed at which he was racing. He had blocked out her screams, and thought of himself and the life they would share.

His younger brother tried to block his way, in the family buggy. Marco had thought he would stop, that family loyalty would protect him. Isabella had thought he would stop, that the man she had loved so much for so long, would stop for her. Ignacio had thought if he could frighten his brother into moving out of the way he would still win the day. He didn't stop. He ploughed ahead at full speed.

The buggies met with the sound of splintering wood, and yells and screams of men and injured horses. Ignacio found himself on the ground, dazed and bleeding. The lady lay dead beside him. Blood soaked her wedding dress. He heard his father scream his name and it was not with any affection. He sat up and gazed across at him. The youngest De Soto lay bleeding in his father's arms, vacant eyes seeing nothing. His father's eyes were full of hate, and the shame that flooded through Ignacio's young body was almost unbearable.

He had killed his own brother. He had killed his true love. He had brought shame on his family, and he was soon to be disinherited by his father. He had tried to apologise. He had begged for forgiveness and everyone had turned away. He had begged for weeks, before he gave up completely. He'd had to, it was too painful. Ignacio's heart began to be hardened. A heart of steel can't feel the pain, he hoped.

It had been termed an unfortunate accident. He had to pay compensation to everyone, even his own father. It had been a painful debt, and to pay it he joined the military as a private. He had never seen his father again. His mother had a nervous collapse and died shortly after the accident bringing further blame his way. His parents had worshiped each other, putting each other first always. Their marriage was the envy of everyone in Madrid. He had dreamed of such a marriage. There wasn't a worse blow he could throw at his father. After a while Ignacio couldn't blame the man for his hate, maturity made him wise.

ZZZZZ

Ignacio blinked a little, and let the tears come. Let them come, he thought wryly. They would come regardless. What was the use of fighting them? Would the memories ever fade?

Felipe was staring at him as if he had lost his mind. Maybe he had – all those years ago. Now another man was dead, another person hated him for it. Diego had tried to stop him so many times, and he had wanted his way, regardless of the pain he inflicted on others. Why was he like this? He hadn't tried hard enough, he had dithered today, and the man had died. If he hadn't forced Zorro to keep interfering, Diego would have married Victoria years ago.

"I'm sorry, Marco…" He whispered, staring at Felipe but seeing his brother. Marco was a promising young man, and as the youngest had been the family's treasure. Marco would have been 17 when he died, Felipe's age perhaps. "I never wanted you dead."

"Isabella, what a mess," he murmured, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm so sorry, my love. I'm just so sorry…"

Felipe was frowning with confusion. Ignacio recovered his composure slowly and looked up again. His head was slowly losing the cloudy feeling of the pain that interrupted his life so frequently now. When it had first started he thought he was dying. It had been more physical, and Mendoza was the only one, apart from Hernandez that knew anything about it.

Now Felipe knew about it, if he could make any sense out of it. For all his tears, Ignacio still didn't know what to do about the pain. If he did it wouldn't keep happening, probably.

"You won't say anything, will you Felipe?"

Felipe raised his arms into an exaggerated shrug. Felipe came and helped him up, and started to guide the man towards the front door. Ignacio grimaced a little. The teenager wanted to throw him out. He couldn't blame him.

Felipe smiled a little, and patted the Alcalde on the arm. Then he held him palm out in a 'stop' gesture, and Ignacio stopped. Felipe fetched Ignacio's horse and his own piebald. The boy waited for the man to mount his horse and then he mounted his own.

The shift in their relationship was unclear, but the boy obviously wanted to join him and ride back to town with Ignacio. The Alcalde could barely accept the friendliness, and it seemed a little forced but not completely.

They rode back to the pueblo without speaking, each of them was preoccupied by what had happened back at the hacienda.

He glanced at the boy when he knew he wouldn't expect it, and Felipe was staring at him with concern.

Diego seemed to have raised the boy well. Apart from the lust for vengeance and the killing of evil men, he seemed to take after the man very well indeed. Diego would have been concerned for Ignacio. He would have asked questions and badgered him until the secret was out, and then he would have thought up a strategy to solve it. Why had he never seen the brilliance in that man's eyes? Why had Ignacio always been prepared to see what everyone else saw in Diego instead of looking with his own eyes? He would have seen Zorro in Diego's eyes if he had.

He should have accepted or volunteered a truce a few years ago, when he had realised how long and hard it would be to actually catch the man in the mask. At times the masked hero had seemed willing to work together in some areas. Together they may have ousted the Emissary long before he was killed. Together they could have encouraged the people to work together to become the greatest pueblo in the territories, and he could have gained prestige and power that way. Although, perhaps Diego would have discouraged that sort of thing. If Zorro had trained the lancers, who could imagine how great they could have become. He could have stepped down, he could have raised his children.

Now Diego was dead. Now a boy had lost his father…a boy so like Marco. He had never realised before how much like his brother the boy was. Maybe all teenagers looked the same? Maybe it was the clothes? Maybe it was the spark of boyish foolishness that they all had? Ignacio knew it was his fault his father was dead, just as it was his fault that his own brother was dead. Maybe there was a way to redeem himself. He could work to promote Felipe as he progressed through his life – behind the scenes so that he didn't embarrass the boy. He could do what Zorro had always wished he would do. Justice for all in Los Angeles – Felipe would like that. Marco would have liked that.

The distress of separated teenage lovers had snowballed with the accident. The piece of his heart that Isabella took would never be replaced. Fuming fathers had been consumed by grief and hatred, turning their backs on him, threatening to kill him if he ever returned to that district. Broken hearts lay scattered through his past, increasing as all his mistakes had increased. Simple losses in love had turned to tragedies of epic scale.

The boy at his side spoke with no words, conveying an uneasy truce in his worried glances, and the way he kept his horse in step with the Alcalde's.


	19. Ignacio Sees a Ghost

Ignacio Sees a Ghost

Ignacio and Felipe arrived about half an hour after the lancers had delivered Brownlow to the jail. Alejandro and Victoria were resting at the tavern, slowly coming to terms with their loss. Felipe dismounted first and tethered both horses outside the Tavern, and guided the Alcalde through the doors.

He slunk inside, barely able to keep his head up. He felt the eyes turn to him. Contempt and anger filled those eyes, and he felt the shame increase as it always did when he had failed everyone. He stood straighter, and kept his head up. He was a De Soto, through and through, and they had one failing that ran through the whole bloodline – their pride was always their downfall.

Felipe squeezed his arm almost affectionately, and darted away. Ignacio wondered where he had gone for a moment, and then sighed. Obviously the boy had seen a friend…

"What use are you, Alcalde? You can't even protect our scholars now," one of the dons sneered at him. "Couldn't you even muddle through a standard defence?"

He didn't answer the man. Don Garcia was angry, and the anger would pass. He walked over to the bar, and a private hurriedly poured him a drink. He downed the wine and walked out.

His office was quiet and peaceful. He would celebrate the capture of the outlaw by ordering some more bottles of wine, and treat himself to a night of drunken oblivion. He needed it after the day he'd had.

Ignacio felt eyes on him as he walked across the road. He glanced around warily, and noticed no one at eye level. He risked a glance up, and noticed nothing in particular. A tiny sound, almost imperceptible, had reached his ears. Almost as if… but of course it was impossible. Diego was Zorro, Diego was dead. The sound reminded him of Zorro's careful tread on the Tavern roof, but it couldn't be. He glanced up again, but even if it had been Zorro, the man was always quick on the roof – he saw nothing at all. Perhaps his man was not who he thought he was. Perhaps the town should be asking where Zorro was, if that was the case. He shrugged. A question for another day. It was late afternoon now, in a few hours the sun would be setting. He'd had enough of this one, that was for sure.

Ignacio swung through to the jail cells out of curiosity. Brownlow sat there, more conscious than he expected, although a little groggy. Blood had leaked from his nose, and mouth. Bruises were soon to purple most of his body, but he already had a deep purple bruise around his right eye. Ignacio was very accomplished in the art of self-defence, as long as he wasn't up against a fight master. Ignacio had punched and kicked the murderer hard.

"Brownlow," Ignacio said, and sneered. "Nice to see you. How do you like my jail?"

Brownlow spat blood on the floor and smiled slowly. "Been in better…"

"I'm sure."

"I'll be out of here in an hour or two, Alcalde. It was nice getting to know you…"

"Yes, it was indeed," Ignacio said. There was an ache in his right hand from the punches he dealt out, but it had been satisfying at the time. "Don't count on early release…"

He walked back through to his quarters and surveyed himself in the mirror thoughtfully. He ran a brush through his hair, and stroked his beard into a neater arrangement. He stared into his own eyes for a moment. He didn't look insane, he thought. He felt it though. He turned his hands over and noticed the tremble in the fingers.

There was a crash that came from the jail. He'd just come from there. He grabbed his extra loaded pistol from the dresser and ran back to the cells.

As he dashed through the door, a bullet struck his left shoulder. Pain was slow in coming, but he covered the wound immediately with his right hand, and ducked down behind a desk. He controlled his breathing with difficulty and risked a glance around his cover. He still clutched the pistol, instinctively tightening his grip on the ivory handle. He transferred hands, positioning his left hand around the handle expertly, a finger already ready on the trigger.

A man was using the keys to release his prisoner.

"Stop, in the name of the King of Spain," Ignacio shouted. "I will shoot you…" He rose and fired towards the men, but he had to use his left hand, and he felt the fire of pain as he moved. The shot went wide of course, and the other man returned fire, fortunately missing him completely.

Another man raced in and a bullet tore through the air again, but it went wide. Ignacio grimaced. Where were his men? The office and jail were normally guarded by at least two lancers. Were they in the tavern? Idiots…

Fire in his shoulder made him wince. He rose again and shot his other pistol, knowing he would miss yet again. At least he wasn't giving up without a fight. The noise might even bring back some of the soldiers to his aid.

The men had vanished, silently and effortlessly. Ignacio groaned, discouraged. He helped himself up, feeling the blood loss weaken him a little. He put more pressure on the wound, and sat down on the chair near the desk. He ventured a quick look, and realised it was merely a flesh wound. Well, that was lucky. It was easily dealt with. He took out his already blood stained handkerchief and bound the wound tightly. The blood loss stopped, but he would have to see Hernandez before too long.

He moved out to the street shouted.

"Mendoza!"

He could hear nothing for a few moments.

"Mendoza!" Ignacio roared. "Brownlow has escaped! Where are you?"

Men rushed out of the tavern, hurriedly racing to the Alcalde's side. Ignacio's eyes flashed fire. Pain was fuelling his anger, giving him an edge over the pain in the shoulder. Mendoza flew to his side.

"Mendoza, saddle up and get half the lancers. I want that man found and brought back here, now!" Ignacio clutched his shoulder, and breathed through a shooting pain. "Dead or alive!" He added, as Mendoza's attention was drawn to the injury instead of his orders for a moment. The sergeant immediately saluted and raced off to follow orders.

He almost thought he imagined the movement on the roof nearby. He watched as the soldiers quickly responded to Mendoza's relayed orders, and as they galloped out of the gate, he realised he was being watched from behind. Ignacio turned slowly, almost sure who he would see.

Zorro was astride his stallion, hidden in the shadows off to the side. Ignacio took a few steps back, staring at the tall masked man. Zorro was as white as snow under his mask, and his eyes were cold.

"Are you a ghost?"

Zorro smiled at him but said nothing, and the smile didn't make his eyes any warmer. He did walk his horse over to the Alcalde, making Ignacio flinch despite himself.

"Felipe de la Vega says you're sorry," Zorro said softly. They looked into each other's eyes, trying to size each other up, trying to gauge body language. Ignacio felt empty, and didn't know what his instinctive response would have been. He wondered what Zorro saw in his eyes.

Zorro's eyes were searching his face. Perhaps he had spoken to Felipe, and Felipe would certainly have things to say about this afternoon.

"I won't take your word for it, my friend…" Zorro added, with a firmness that was as standard for him as his sabre.

"Can't imagine why you would," Ignacio said, standing taller. Fear always made his pride stiffen his spine and step forward, if the odds were in his favour. He didn't step forward now. He was frozen.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Zorro said, lightly, shocking the Alcalde. "Don Diego is not dead."

"Not dead…" Ignacio breathed. Then Zorro was alive. The man was teasing him…

Zorro smiled and shook his head, turning his stallion to follow the Alcalde's soldiers out of the pueblo. Zorro urged his horse into a gallop, and the powerful animal raced through town like something out of a nightmare.

He watched him leave with annoyance. Well, well - Zorro was taunting him once more – it was such an annoying habit of his. He shook his head. The man had made the effort of relieving him of any guilt he may have had over the death of Don Diego. Why had he done that? Why had Zorro seen that as important? He could have already been riding after the bandit, but instead he had relieved Ignacio.

Ignacio walked over to his horse and mounted it. He would soon be out there, helping the soldiers track Brownlow. Zorro would need help probably. He had seemed very pale.

Diego was Zorro. Zorro was Diego. But how was he sitting in the saddle, when an hour ago they were watching him bleed to death at the hacienda? The intelligence of Diego never failed to surprise him.

The light was fading. Everyone would have their work cut out for them. His soldiers would have no clue and no hope. Diego would have the smarts to track the man. Zorro would have the motive. Ignacio could only hope that his own horse would stay close enough to the stallion to actually follow Zorro. He could step in if the need arose. Ignacio knew his injury would be a drawback in a fight, the pain was distracting.


	20. Ignacio's Rescue

Ignacio's Rescue

Ignacio noticed the white mare thundering past him within moments. He reined in his own mare, and glanced behind. It was Alejandro on Dulcinea. He hung back and watched the caballero try his luck catching up to Toronado. Good luck, old man, he thought with a slight chuckle.

Toronado was the fastest mount in the territories. Dulcinea was good but she wasn't that good. He urged his own horse into a gallop as well, keeping the horses in sight. With a flicker of growing interest he realised Dulcinea was gaining on the stallion. He saw the masked rider glance back as he realised the presence of the other rider, and the movement unsettled the stallion. Toronado slowed, his gait disturbed. By the time he was back in rhythm, Dulcinea was almost level with him.

Zorro was forced to slow his horse for his father's sake. Reduced to a canter, Toronado danced and pranced at the restriction. They travelled together for a few minutes, before Zorro swung out of the saddle and attempted to track the bandit and his men. Alejandro joined him as they knelt in the dust.

The men soon were back in the saddle and turned their horses to the left. Ignacio made his way carefully behind them, watching for his troops. Hopefully they hadn't gotten lost. He was not about to lose Zorro. The expertise of Zorro's tracking skills had been shown many times. He wanted Brownlow dead, but he could cope with him jailed as well. Zorro would bring him the man. Zorro was worth half a garrison.

Ignacio was woken out of his half doze, when Zorro urged Toronado back into a gallop. He wondered what had annoyed the masked man, and he was faintly amused to see Alejandro levelling with the stallion once more. He shook himself out of the drowsiness, and forced himself to concentrate. The shoulder wound was beginning to make him a little woozy.

Zorro stiffened and suddenly pointed to the left. Ignacio peered towards where the man was pointing and he could just make out the slight glow of orange. There must be a camp fire not that far away. If they were following tracks correctly, it may well be Brownlow and his men. Where were the soldiers? Were they stumbling around in the growing gloom? They all rode a little further, until the silhouettes of men stood out near the camp fire.

Zorro and Alejandro dismounted silently. The darkness was falling remarkably quickly, but that was normal outside Los Angeles. Zorro was almost invisible in his black outfit. Zorro held Alejandro's arm for a moment, and the men listened intently.

Ignacio held his breath, and stayed perfectly still. Perhaps they had heard him? Light and sound travelled equally well in the stillness out here. Neither of the men turned to glance towards him. They were trying to gauge the campfire area. Alejandro was old and not as fit as he once was. Zorro was injured. His head and shoulder had been bleeding over the last week and a bit. The sabre was not an option this evening.

Ignacio crept a little closer, and left his horse. He wanted to see what they saw, and to be on hand in an emergency. Something, or someone small dashed to his side, and he held his breath, reaching for his rapier. It was Felipe. He was gesturing again….It was the equivalent of blathering to Ignacio but he didn't let frustration cloud his judgement.

"Soldiers…" Ignacio mouthed.

Felipe nodded. "Can you fetch them?" Ignacio said, so softly he wasn't sure the teenager could hear him. The boy had experience in lip reading, so he patted the Alcalde on the right shoulder, and was soon invisible once more in the gloom. Ignacio was curious about how the teenager viewed him.

The man near the fire had friends. Murmuring voices travelled over the plains, but he couldn't make out the words as yet. He was aware with hearing or seeing much, when Zorro and Alejandro crept forward. His ears and eyes were attuned to any movement in the environment. Such skills had saved his life on battlefields. He had known when to run, when others hadn't.

As Zorro and Alejandro crept forward, he waited and crept forward as well. Ignacio could soon make out voices.

"I couldn't believe it…Damn fool simply walked into a bullet," Brownlow was saying.

"These dons, what do you expect? No sense, none at all," another man said. "The young ones are even worse. Most are fops," he added.

"I'm turning in, Sylvester," Brownlow said, moving closer to the fire. The other man sat with a pipe, smoking a small distance away. "Wake me in an hour, I'll do guard duty." Brownlow added.

Zorro half rose and Ignacio saw the man turn his head to the side, watching and listening to the environment around him. Ignacio held his breath again and flatted himself to the ground. He didn't know why he did it, but he seemed to be working on instinct. Zorro was still a wildcard, and he had always been a little afraid of the man.

Zorro's hand pressed onto his father's shoulder, and then he strode silently through the dark. Ignacio could barely see him in the dark, crouched as he was. Knowing Zorro something was about to happen. He waited for the sound of pistols, or rifles, or steel on steel. Everything was silent – the silence said something. What was Zorro doing?

Alejandro moved. Ignacio watched the man carefully. Why wasn't the old man waiting for Zorro? He knew why with a little thought – Diego was Zorro, Diego had been having dizzy spells. Alejandro had lost everything he cared about, twice. Brownlow was a man that should be worrying. A quiet, thinking Alejandro was a dangerous man. Ignacio crept forward to a better vantage point, in case he needed to step in to save the old man. He didn't care about Brownlow. If Alejandro wanted to, he would stand back and let the old man kill the outlaw.

"Brownlow," Alejandro said, loud enough to wake the outlaw from his sleep.

He stepped into the firelight, his rapier drawn, and Brownlow rose from his position.

"Alejandro de la Vega," the outlaw breathed. "I take it your whelp is dead then."

"I am here to bring you to justice, Brownlow. On behalf of my son," he said.

Brownlow laughed. "So you are challenging me to a duel? Or am I supposed to walk meekly behind the horse back to Los Angeles? I don't really like either idea."

"Draw your sword, murderer," Alejandro said icily.

Brownlow stood still for a moment, before he slowly unsheathed his own rapier. Alejandro stood firm, with his back straight, and his legs flexible. Alejandro de la Vega still was a legendary veteran. His sword skills were mythical. As a commander he had been very successful.

Brownlow was at least ten years older than him, and a strategist rather than a main player. He preferred to use others to do his dirty work for him. Those sorts of men were sometimes lacking in the skills needed to inflict any pain on others personally, with weapons close up. A pistol was one thing, a dagger another. A sword was a gentleman's weapon, and still a close range weapon. It took skill to take a life with such a weapon and a lot of determination to run a sword through a sword master, even an old one.

The clash of swords sent adrenalin coursing through his body. It was dark, but they had the firelight to gauge positioning and aim.

Felipe was once again at his side, and he was pointing over to the right. The soldiers had been led to the campfire by the teenager. After a pat on the arm, Felipe was gone again. Ignacio glanced in the direction the boy was pointing, and slowly moved as quietly as possible towards the direction. It took more than a few minutes, difficult as pain raced through his shoulder, giving his own dizzy spells to fight as he moved.

Movement in the dark distracted him. A tall man was silhouetted against the darkness. Zorro had broken cover.

"Out of the way," Zorro demanded of his father. Alejandro remained fighting.

"My fight, Zorro. The man shot my son," Alejandro shouted back.

Ignacio scrambled quickly away, and soon joined the soldiers. Mendoza would have said something, but he covered his mouth with his gloved hand. He put a finger on his lips, and removed the hand. He gestured for them to move slowly, and quietly, and led them towards the campfire. He had seen the old man start to tire. He had to save the situation, before it ended in disaster. Zorro would like it if he could save his father. If he didn't save his father, well, Zorro might well become a loose cannon on the deck of Ignacio's personal ship, and he had seen the consequences of things like that. He located his horse, and mounted. He urged the mare into an easy canter.

"Harry Brownlow, you are under arrest for the murder of Diego de la Vega," the Alcalde voice boomed in the darkness. Several soldiers stood with their rifles aimed at Brownlow. Alejandro mastered the man at that moment, as Brownlow startled with surprise. His sword tip pressed against his heart, and Alejandro's fist met the other man's head. Brownlow fell without a sound. Unconscious but breathing.

The Alcalde approached him and deliberately turned so the man didn't notice the wound on his shoulder. Mendoza was bad enough to deal with.

"Don Alejandro, an amazing feat. The reward is yours. 5,000 pesos."

"Zorro saved my son, that's my reward." Alejandro said, as he sheathed his rapier.

"What do you mean? Diego's dead," the Alcalde said feigning confusion. "He was shot, remember?"

"Some sort of plan cooked up between them. A bladder system under his clothes. Zorro visited Victoria to tell her. Some wedding present I believe," Alejandro said.

"I would not trust that masked man," Ignacio said because it was expected of him. He thought to himself that he probably would not trust the masked man. He was always coming up with surprises.

"I need to get home and see to my son. Zorro said he was alright, but a father needs to see for himself," Alejandro added, calling Dulcinea to him. Mounting the mare, he glanced around vaguely. Ignacio realised he was trying to catch a glimpse of Zorro.

"Don Alejandro, I will escort you myself. I would like to see that for myself. That's amazing if it is true," the Alcalde said, with a thrill of humour.

He wondered if Zorro was close enough to hear him. If he wanted to tease him, Ignacio could tease him right back. How about a race back home, Zorro? He could guess that the man was exhausted. Ignacio felt drained with a flesh wound, he could imagine how Zorro was feeling.

"Come with me back to the pueblo and we will head out together. After I see that this fiend is dealt with. He will not escape again."

Alejandro reluctantly agreed to the plan. Ignacio kept the pace slow, uncharacteristically mindful of his lancers. After a short time, Alejandro relaxed into his saddle. They didn't talk. Ignacio kept his eyes open for Zorro. The man would have to move soon to make it to the hacienda before them.

As they neared the pueblo's entrance, the Alcalde was sure he heard a familiar whistle, and imagined the thundering hooves of a racing stallion.


	21. Ignacio's Help

Ignacio's Help

Ignacio De Soto took his time in the pueblo. He was feeling a little guilty about the challenge of a race to an injured man. He did need to deal with the criminal thoroughly. Losing the man was not an option, and someone was already going to be punished for dereliction of duty.

Ignacio oversaw the soldiers as they attached manacles to the man's wrists and his ankles, and ensured they were fastened to the wall securely.

"We need to have adequate guards in the cell this time, Alcalde," Alejandro interjected. One of the surviving governor's men raised an eyebrow and scowled at Ignacio, thinking he would complain about the interference. Ignacio shrugged. The older man was wise, what was the point of arguing with him?

"How would you do it?" Ignacio said softly.

"One inside the cell with the man, and one outside the building, just near the window. In case there are more men out there willing to rescue him."

Ignacio nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds adequate. One more on patrol inside the jail house as well." His men were hopeless; he may as well admit it to himself. Maybe he could beg Zorro's forgiveness; maybe he could help him with the soldiers. They all obviously respected the masked man.

Ignacio could see the older man was tired and distracted. If he knew that his son was Zorro, he was probably quite worried for the young man. If he didn't, he would be desperate to see his son who was dead but was now alive. A son that was woozy perhaps, riding at a breakneck speed back to the hacienda. He would hate to be responsible for the real death of Diego de la Vega, just because of a teasing moment. He finished up a little quicker than he needed to.

The Alcalde left the pueblo in the hands of the governor's man and Mendoza. Together the pair should be able to muddle through most things.

He rode next to Alejandro. Ignacio was pleasantly surprised to see that Alejandro kept Dulcinea well away from his boots. The mare had torn one of his old ones to shreds. He should have listened to Alejandro the day he had insisted on riding the mare. He had made a bad enemy with his crop that day.

They rode in the darkness, with half an eye out for outlaws. There weren't many bandits who would risk Zorro; as everyone knew Zorro was much more active at night. He had the eyes of a fox, after all. Ignacio grimaced at the legend, the darkness covering it. Diego had caused an enormous upheaval in the 5 short years of Zorro's activities. They urged the horses into a swift canter, to speed up the trip.

Alejandro swung down from the saddle, leaving the horses with Juan, and Ignacio slowly followed him. Felipe was waiting for Alejandro at the door, his green suit looking scruffy and dusty, but otherwise the boy was perfectly fine. Alejandro frowned at him and seemed irritated by the boy. Ignacio gave the youngster a smile, as he entered after the older man. They both knew what the teenager had gotten into that afternoon, but the old man didn't have to know the whole story.

Felipe caught up with Alejandro, signing to him as they walked together. They all walked quickly to Diego's room.

Diego is tired and sick, Felipe signed quickly. Even Ignacio had got that message from the signs. He frowned a little, and watched Alejandro's face cloud again. The worried furrow in the man's forehead made Ignacio nervous.

Ignacio was dawdling, and Alejandro had had to wait for him in the hallway. He seemed a little irritated with him as well. Ignacio's shoulder was hurting and he'd yet to see the doctor. He couldn't help being slow. Could he?

Voices travelled down the hall. Diego and Victoria…sweet little love birds…Ignacio felt vaguely annoyed. The man had made it to bed in time, thankfully – good.

"Hush, that would be your father, Diego," Victoria was saying.

"And the Alcalde…" Diego's voice cautioned. Ignacio grimaced a little at the underlying distrust in the man's voice.

"Diego." Alejandro said, as he walked into Diego's room. Ignacio hung back, to give the family a moment to breathe.

"Don Alejandro, how is the boy?" The Alcalde said as he slowly entered the room. "None the worse for wear, obviously," he added as his eyes met Diego's calm blue ones. The man staring back at him with just the hint of Zorro's arrogance was exhausted, drained and paler than he'd been. Diego raised an eyebrow his way, and something passed between them. Then the moment was gone, and Diego sighed, emphasising his weakness, not his strength.

"I'm not sure what happened. The bladder system obviously worked, otherwise I would be dead," Diego murmured, trying to sit up. Alejandro reached the bed, and pressed on his hand.

"No, Diego," he murmured, gently.

Alejandro scanned the room, his eyes alighting on the bladder system on the dresser. He picked it up gingerly and examined it.

"Extraordinary, Don Diego. It is amazing how you come up with these things," Ignacio said slowly. He took the bladder vest from Alejandro and examined it himself. He seemed genuinely interested and slightly surprised. It was so intricate and clever. He saw where the bullet had entered, and his eyes flickered over the blood everyone had assumed was Diego's. He rattled the bladder, hearing the bullet bump against the walls of the device.

"Diego is always experimenting with things," Alejandro murmured, thoughtfully.

"All a matter of science, Alcalde. It follows several principles. I can explain them for you…," Diego said, slightly excitable.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure you need rest." The Alcalde said. He had no time for that right now. He was sure he could learn a lot from the young man, but right now he was struggling with his shoulder agony and he was tired as well. "Your head wound looks inflamed from all that running about at the wedding. Not such a great idea, gentlemen. Diego was set up as bait in a sense. Obviously not a sensible move."

Ignacio was feeling a little imbalanced and needed some fresh air. He left the room abruptly, and wondered if he had been rude for a moment. He waited in the hallway and Alejandro soon joined him.

"I need to get back to the office, Don Alejandro. All this business needs to be worked through. As a previous Alcalde, you must know how it is," Ignacio said softly.

Alejandro nodded, but Ignacio wasn't even sure he had heard him.

"As I continue to tell you, Alejandro, that boy is the luckiest man in California. He is a walking miracle. I'd persuade him to take some lessons in self-defence. Luck can run out in time," Ignacio said softly at the door. Alejandro assured him that it would be considered, as he shut the door politely for once.

Felipe fetched his horse and noticed the wounded shoulder. He made him sit down in the stables, and disappeared for a few moments. He returned with proper bandages and some ointments.

"This is unnecessary, Don Felipe," Ignacio said softly, aware that they were being watched. Felipe shrugged and applied the ointment. Ignacio yelped in pain, and steeled himself too late. Felipe glanced at him with a slight sneer on his face.

"I know Zorro doesn't trust me, and he probably never will, Felipe. I want to make a difference in how I run the pueblo. I really do. I could have arrested him, you know," Ignacio said softly. "I know…"

Felipe scowled a little, and applied the bandage expertly but roughly. Ignacio grabbed his hand. "You know that hurts…"

Felipe gestured wildly. He was probably trying to deny that Zorro was Diego. Ignacio watched his face. Panicked eyes that turned to rage filled pools… "I could have arrested him. I didn't arrest him. I won't arrest him…"

Felipe raised his arms in a shrug.

"I don't know why…" He sighed. Felipe looked at the messy bandage on the arm. It was not his best work, and he reapplied it more gently, until he was satisfied. "I had a brother…His name was Marco and he was about your age. He's dead now."

Felipe waited for him to catch his breath. Ignacio felt the world spin around him, and he closed his eyes and breathed. "I…killed…him."

"He was my best friend. It was an accident. I never meant it to happen. He was covered in blood." Ignacio felt the words spill out of his mouth. "He tried to stop me. I should have stopped."

Felipe patted his hand thoughtfully, and he felt the tears again spill down his face. He was awash with them this time, and he felt his breath catch in a gasp. He wouldn't sob. He couldn't, not in front of the teenager. Not in front of anyone. He bit down on his lip.

"I've never told anyone, Felipe. Never. It happened so long ago. It was another life. I died that day. I must have, because the man I am now is nothing like that other man. The man Marco was proud of. I want to be my brother's hero again."

He avoided the issue of Isabella. One heartbreak was enough to deal with at once. Felipe helped him up, and he opened his eyes. He helped him to his horse and watched as he mounted. Ignacio straightened in the saddle. He assured the doubtful teenager he would be alright, and he thanked him clumsily for his help.

He urged the mare into an easy canter, wishing for his own bed. It had been a hard day.


	22. Ignacio's Plans

Ignacio's Plans

As Ignacio neared the town, he was aware of another rider rushing up and past him. In the dark it was hard to see who it was, and it concerned him that someone was in so great a hurry to get to town. He increased his speed, and caught up with the rider.

It was Felipe, and he was in a state.

"Diego?" Ignacio said, almost giving into an urge to grab the teenager's bridle. Felipe nodded, and steered the piebald out of his reach. The teenager was smart, he would give him that. Any son of Diego de la Vega, whether by blood or adoption would be.

Felipe shot him a glance, and he pulled back a little, nodding. Felipe increased his speed once more, leaving him in the dust.

He cantered the rest of the way, thoughtful and indecisive for a while. Diego was alive, not dead. But Felipe looked white as a sheet, and his eyes were full of fear. He may have to act on his decision at the hacienda after all. If Diego died…Felipe would still need a protector. The foolish child thought he could go around shooting bandits, for goodness sake. He'd have to put a stop to that. He'd have to make the pueblo a lot safer.

He dismounted at his quarters shaking his head. Felipe was not Marco. He was not his brother, he was not in any way responsible for the boy. His heart yearned for a second chance…Felipe had been patient with him, caring and helpful. That was his nature, and he was used to helping Zorro.

Zorro… What to do about that man? He couldn't arrest him – he'd given his word to Felipe. He smiled at himself. He'd broken his word in the past, but somehow it seemed as though he'd betray his brother's memory by betraying Felipe's father. He would only hurt the boy he wanted to help.

He couldn't just allow the man to waltz in and out of town, doing whatever he wished without some attempt to stop him, at least not right now. The authorities would react in ways he would not like. Other officals had clashed with Zorro in the past, and even know would love to see the man on the scaffold. It would never happen, as long as he lived in the area. Somehow he would work to prevent that, for Felipe's sake.

Marco would have loved making friends with Felipe. They had similar interests, but all boys of that age did. Marco had wanted to be a doctor, or a teacher or something else insipid but helpful. Felipe seemed to be geared the same way, only he dabbled in rifle skills and probably was an aspiring swordsman as well.

Without his speech the boy could not do much with his life. Some would argue just being a de la Vega was enough to cement his future for life, but he had seen the boy wander about aimlessly. Being a general assistant to his father and grandfather would only please him for a short time, and though he enjoyed it he would always hunger for more.

Marco had been impatient to be on with his life as well. A life he never attained. Dead at 17, and by Ignacio's foolish hand. Marco had wanted to be a teacher, hadn't he? That had been what he had decided.

There was no teacher in Los Angeles. Only the church and Diego seemed concerned with education in this dust bowl. Caballeros were happy to pay their tutors and didn't concern themselves with anyone else.

Marco would be telling him to get a teacher, and build a new school. Marco would tell him not to be so cruel and unjust and distrustful with everyone he met. Marco would be cheering Zorro on from the sidelines, and telling Ignacio to be friends with the man. Marco would have stepped in front of Ignacio and pleaded with him for mercy. Marco was a foolish boy but a lot of people loved him and admired him for his idealism. Would it hurt that badly if he was a little less heartless? A man his brother would be proud of would look after the poor and the children. Marco would even love the Indians and crave justice for them as well.

If he worked hard enough at being more just, Zorro would step back - if he survived the week. He had a feeling that someone else would fill his shoes very shortly, if he died. He didn't want that person to be Felipe. It would be the most obvious choice, and Felipe clearly had the resources and knew Zorro's job inside and out. The boy had not trained under any Spanish master, and he was not a grown man – he would claim his destiny all the same. The impatience and overconfidence of youth was inspiring but stupid.

Ignacio sighed, and sank into his desk chair, and wondered what to do. Thinking was one thing, actions were another. Being sorry was one thing, compensation was completely different. What would Zorro want from him? If Zorro was impressed, Felipe would be as well.

Ignacio drew out a piece of paper, and a quill pen. Putting pen to paper had worked to discover Zorro's identity, perhaps it would help sort out the next steps as well.

"Things to do", he wrote.

"A school for the children of poor farmers and general labourers. Another doctor to help with Hernandez's rounds. General funds could be released to help fund an orphanage for the urchins in the territory. Housing could be provided somehow for the homeless."

It would take a little work to sort out how and where the funds would come from, but Alcalde Ramone had funded a Parisian bathtub worth a great deal of money, milked out of the people. If he didn't act to exhort money, maybe the money would be there anyway. It would be wonderful if the de la Vegas and others like them could be persuaded to sponsor the project. People who couldn't pay their taxes…well, something could be done, surely? Could he give them more time to pay? Could he, perhaps, remove some of the extra taxes he had instigated or carried on from Ramone? It would be painful in some ways, but maybe that was where his second chance lay.

Ignacio found himself staring at the door, hoping that it would soon swing open and Zorro would be standing there. He would tell him to wait – and see the ideas on the paper. He felt a thrill of fear, and knew it was going to be a hard sell with the masked man. He would be fully accountable. He stared down at the paper, and sighed. Zorro would watch him like a hawk. Should he let him know that he knew? Felipe would probably tell him as soon as he was conscious enough to comprehend the teenagers rapid signing.

He felt an urge to tear the paper into strips and drop them one by one into the fire in the grate. He stopped himself reaching for it, to scrunch it up. He stared at the words on the paper, and imagined Marco reading it from over his shoulder. His brother would have smiled, and clapped him on the back, and hugged him, tightly. He missed Marco's hugs. They had always been impulsive and strong.

If he could make that excitement enter Felipe's eyes, and see it in other young men's eyes, how would that feel? Those urchin children running loose in the pueblo – they needed love and support and guidance. If Diego lived past the week, Felipe would be fine. The urchin children would not be, even if Diego took a liking to them as far as reading and writing went, the children missed out on so much. Maybe the idea of an orphanage wasn't that bad after all.

It could be connected to the school, and everyone could have a chance at an education. The de la Vegas could advise on a teacher suitable for the pueblo, and he would have very powerful backers. Perhaps he could find the funds for the children to have a hot meal in the middle of the day. Something like the 6000 peso reward for Zorro might cover it.

He smiled, and thought about teasing Diego for a few more years before completely letting him off the hook. After all Diego had teased him ever since that first botch up at the de la Vega hacienda. At times almost mercilessly.

He penned a short message to Felipe and had it delivered by a private, who was definitely illiterate. It was between the teenager and himself. He worded it to be a little hard to understand, but told him not to tell Diego about the fact that he knew. He assured Felipe and his family was safe, as long as he didn't tell a soul what Ignacio had told him. He hated frightening the boy, but the darkness of his past still tore at his soul, and the truth of his feelings could never be repeated to another living soul.


	23. Ignacio's New Friend

Ignacio's New Friend

A week passed, with a lot of hard work that Ignacio was, frankly, unused to. Bandits had been terrorising the outskirts of the pueblo for a few days, as if tempting Zorro out to play. Ignacio had waited. It was always a possibility that he'd been wrong about Diego being Zorro. During the few days, Zorro never showed his face. The bandits were cautious at first and then started to be more brazen. Ignacio decided to do something about it this time. He had arrested the men three days after their initial appearance, and pocketed some well-earned reward money. This time Zorro wasn't there to take credit for the jailing of the men, and spoil the day.

A couple more bandits appeared, and he responded more quickly. Even more reward money…He was starting to enjoy himself a little. The bandits were a lot simpler than Zorro, and he spent less time and energy plotting against them than he did against Zorro. The bandits were stupid and easy to arrest. Ignacio had always been a very good swordsman, and as a strategist he was one of the best. It was just his luck to meet Zorro, who was five times better than him. Only Zorro was not patrolling the territory as he used to. Sergeant Mendoza and his men started to realise that Zorro was not going to appear, and started to take their work more seriously.

An official from Monterey was due to arrive in a fortnight, and he was a little nervous. Colonel Armand de Cipriana was a major player in California, and he had heard the name while in Madrid as well. He was rumoured to be up for a promotion very shortly, and who knew where the man might end up. He had tried to find out some more about the man. He had been at Madrid University at the same time as Diego, and perhaps they knew each other well. Don Diego had been particularly unimpressed with Ignacio when he had first arrived, and had probably written his usual letters to powerful friends.

Colonel de Cipriana was a good man if the rumours were true. Recently married, he was now deployed in Monterey most of the time. He was loved by the people and that was something extraordinary in the territory. A good man might have something to say about his management of the pueblo.

He was bringing his wife, and they were to stay in the tavern. Victoria was still in residence for some unusual reason, and it was obvious that the marriage was in name only. It wasn't as if Diego was well enough to make any demands on his wife. Victoria was happy to remain in the tavern and visit her husband for the time being.

Victoria would see that Diego's friend would have the best rooms in the Tavern. Diego's favourite room would be ideal. Senora de Cipriana would be comfortable with the Tavern keeper, hopefully. Newly married men tended to be a little high strung when it came to the comforts of their brides. Normally…

ZZZZZ

Ignacio welcomed the official from Monterey with his normal over enthusiasm and deference. He saluted and bowed deeply before he even looked at the man's face. The man exited the coach, before turning and helping his young wife out.

Ignacio bowed over the lady's hand, and she gasped a little. She wore a fashionable bonnet that covered her fair hair and fair skinned face. He couldn't make out her face for a moment. He raised his eyes, and as he looked up into her face, he saw a ghost. She looked just like his mother. He was frozen with the recognition, and she stared at him as if _he_ was a ghost.

"Ignacio…"

He had never met his sister. He had blamed her for their mother's death, but in reality it had been his own fault. The tragedy with Marco had sparked a premature birth. Marcela and Iliana had been born early, and only one had survived. Their mother had pined away and died a few days later, just before her 42nd birthday. His exile had already begun by then. He wasn't even sure which twin sister she was.

Hate and blame had always been so easy from a distance. It was easy to blame the birth as the cause of death, in reality he knew it had been his mother's grief that had killed her. He was to blame for that. Out of a family of nine, only four of them remained now. His elder brothers had never spoken to him since the accident either, so he felt completely abandoned – almost orphaned. Now he seemed to have a sister, all of a sudden.

She was a lovely woman. She stood tall and slender. She was relaxed at her husband's side, dressed in the finest Spanish fashion, with the decorum suiting her husband's post.

"Do you know each other, mi Corazon?" Colonel Armand de Cipriana asked his wife softly, drawing both of them back to the present. He had a deep confident voice, and it resonated with power, even when used softly.

"This is my brother…"

The Colonel's eyebrows rose and he gazed at the Alcalde with deeper consideration. Ignacio saw what he expected from any family member, condemnation and suspicion, and he looked away from the Colonel with a sudden feeling of shame and the familiar twinge of fear.

"If you would like to follow me….Colonel….The tavern rooms are very comfortable. I'm sure the very best rooms have been made ready for you and your wife," Ignacio said softly, disregarding the strange introduction his sister had stumbled over. It was of no consequence. It would be difficult, but perhaps the Colonel could keep it professional, and not let any sense of vengeance hold sway.

Ignacio needed to keep it professional. Hopefully, the lady would soon be returning to Madrid, as did most of the officials' wives. Ignacio was sure she was not his friend, being raised by a father who had sworn to kill him if he ever set foot near him again. Senor De Soto had signed a letter written for that effect shortly after Ignacio had been thrown out onto the street. One of his mother's brothers had taken him in, and after he had spent several years in the military working to pay his debts, his uncle convinced him to try for the scholarship.

The former Senorita De Soto would hate and fear him, and the Colonel was enamoured with his new bride, so Ignacio realised his career and all his ambitions and quite possibly his life could soon be forfeit. The Colonel definitely had that sort of power. Now he had the motive as well.

ZZZZ

Victoria de la Vega was the perfect hostess as usual. Smiling at the young lady, she settled her in the very best of rooms. A lancer carried their luggage up the stairs. The Colonel checked everything over with a critical eye, but even he was pleased. He kissed his wife's hand and made his way back down the stairs, leaving his wife to rest.

"What would you like to drink, Alcalde?"

Ignacio was a little shocked by the question. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember what Diego did to play it safe. Diego never seemed to take any risks.

"Victoria's lemonade is very popular," he ventured, remembering Diego loved the drink. He should do, he drank gallons of the stuff.

The Colonel ordered two lemonades. Pilar quickly fetched them, with Victoria overseeing. She seemed to be more managerial now.

"You intrigue me, Ignacio," Armand de Capriana murmured, making Ignacio nervous.

"Do I?"

"Yes…"

There was an awkward silence. Ignacio wasn't sure what to say, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Not a bad little pueblo, Alcalde," the Colonel said softly.

Ignacio waited.

"Zorro, the folk hero…He is an issue?"

"I believe the man is dead, Colonel." Ignacio took a sip of his lemonade. Zorro hadn't been active since Diego's wedding night, he was sure of it.

"You killed him?"

The question almost made him laugh. He would have loved to claim that honour a few years ago. He found himself shaking his head. He took another sip of his lemonade. It was very good, and a nice distraction from the nervous tremors that he struggled to hide from the other man.

"He hasn't been seen for weeks, Colonel," Ignacio volunteered. "He must be dead. The man sets himself against all sorts of crimes and small petty injustices in the pueblo. In the past, I have been able to sit back and watch him deal with many problems on his own. Lately, I have maintained law and order completely. My troops had felt the strain…"

"You have allowed the masked man to take over the running of justice in the pueblo?"

Ignacio paled. He had put his foot in it that time. "We have been severely understaffed in this pueblo for years. As I have often reported to the Governor…"

The Colonel nodded.

"I am a regular correspondent of the de la Vega family. Don Diego, for one, has had a lot to say about your management of this town."

Diego…Well, he would have had something to say. Diego had thought Ignacio was going to be an improvement on the old Alcalde, and when he had disappointed the caballero, Ignacio was sure many letters had flooded the desks of many a friend in high places. He really should have cultivated a friendship with the wealthy ranchero, when he'd had the chance.

"Don Diego has been recovering from injuries over the past month and a half, Colonel. Both myself and Zorro seemed to have worked together to gain his freedom from kidnappers…"

The Colonel stared at him for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully. "I visited the de la Vegas in passing this morning," he said. "Don Alejandro had certain things to say about you."

Ignacio De Soto waited for a statement of dismissal. He knew he had offended the de la Vegas often in the past 3 years. Notice of a court marital didn't come.

"Both Don Alejandro and Don Diego have often mentioned your skills, and the possibility of improvements. Just today, Don Alejandro told me about your actions to secure his son, and help defend his hacienda on Diego's wedding day. He believes that your management of your troops and subsequent actions saved the lives of many people," the Colonel said softly. "Don Diego has often written to me in this past year alone, stating your potential for great leadership, Ignacio."

Ignacio was surprised.

"Don Diego notes your abilities as a great strategist and leader of men," Armand de Cipriana said. Ignacio didn't know what the caballero was doing, saying such things. They felt like lies, and that Diego was playing a trick on him again.

Armand must have seen the look of disbelief on his face. He smiled a little. "He notes several examples, examples I have researched personally. Don Diego has always been very imaginative, I had to see for myself what sort of a man you are," the Colonel assured him. "I believe that you do have this potential for greatness, Ignacio. I believe that even the blackest of souls has a chance for repentance. I believe that you deserve a second chance…"

Ignacio was shocked. The words coming from the soldier's mouth made no sense for a moment.

"I am…honoured, Colonel," Ignacio breathed.

"You are my brother now, Ignacio."

Ignacio shook his head. "My sister is mistaken. I am disinherited, my family has disowned me. I'm not really a de Soto."

"If Marcela says that you are her brother, that's all I need," Armand said. "Young men make mistakes, Ignacio. Sometimes they make huge ones. If people learn from their mistakes, and make things right, they are seen for what they are - human beings as fallible as everyone else, with the extra courage to repair their lives, that most lack."

Ignacio met his eyes warily.

"What do you want me to do? I have ideas for how to change, but I have no real idea where to start. Colonel, I want to change things in Los Angeles. I really want to change things."

The Colonel smiled a little, this time his eyes lit up as his lips smiled. They rose from their seats and left the tavern, heading across to the office. Already they were talking and sharing ideas.

ZZZ

Note:

His sister was mentioned in passing earlier. An 'encouraging official' was mentioned in Diego's or Alejandro's thoughts. Thought it would be fun to introduce them as a chance for some family forgiveness.


	24. Ignacio is a Hero

Ignacio Is a Hero

Ignacio found himself alone with his sister, when he went to visit their room at the Tavern the next day. The Colonel had gone riding at dawn, a habit he seemed to enjoy. Senora de Cipriana was dressed and ready for the day, eating a breakfast in the privacy of her room.

"I'm sorry to intrude Senora," he said, a little unsure of himself.

She glanced up at him. Her eyes were dark like their father's. She stared at him hard, and he met her eyes. He thought it was only fair. He was staring at her; she may as well be permitted to see what he looked like.

"Father said you were dead…"

Ignacio was silent. He wondered what his father thought. He had never been the favourite; he had always been a little too selfish for his father to take to. His mother's heart was soft enough to embrace him.

"Something in me died the day Marco died," Ignacio said softly. "I suppose he was right."

She sighed a little. "Father talks of you sometimes…It really seemed like he thought you were dead."

Ignacio smiled a little. "Perhaps he did. News travels slowly out here sometimes, and I've had a few near misses…" He knew better. His father had hoped, probably, that he had died. He'd had moments where he had thought he would soon be dead, but somehow something made him persevere. Pride and fear were strong survival motivators.

"Father loves you," Marcela said softly. "The way he talked of you as I grew up."

Ignacio nodded, to humour his young sister. What was she now? Sixteen, seventeen? Armand had married a much younger lady, much like everyone else in their peer group. Perhaps his father had been swayed by the Colonel's wealth. He had attempted to send money after the debt had been paid, but lawyers had returned it. That had been years ago.

The Colonel returned from the ride, perspiring a little.

"Ignacio," he said, as he walked in. "Good morning." Armand de Cipriana glanced at his wife, who seemed a little disturbed.

"We were talking about my father," Ignacio said, thinking honesty would smooth the furrows appearing on the man's brow.

"Senor De Soto is an old man, who has seen the deaths of those he has loved…It makes people bitter sometimes," Armand said thoughtfully. "Don't concern yourself, mi Corazon. Your father does not need to know about Ignacio."

"But why not? My father, our father, loved Ignacio…"

Armand strode forward and kissed his wife on her forehead, silencing her. She seemed a little distracted after that, and Ignacio had the sense to leave the room.

Armand joined him downstairs within a few moments. Ignacio was a trifle surprised.

"I am not wanted right now," Armand said softly. Ignacio couldn't help looking surprised. "She is cross with me, Ignacio. She's feeling a little cooped up."

"Women are interesting creatures," Ignacio said with a shrug.

"Diego's bride is staying in the Tavern," Armand said with a hint of curiosity. "It's a strange arrangement, especially for newlyweds."

"Have you seen him lately?"

"Yes. I went out this morning." Armand said, his eyes darkening with concern. "He's much better physically, but mentally he's a mess." He paused. "Do you think Zorro has threatened him?"

Ignacio's eyebrows rose.

"Zorro was very dedicated to keeping the de la Vegas safe, particularly," he replied, thinking he needed to say something.

"Hmm…"

"Zorro is most probably dead, remember?"

"The masked man may have left the territory. All the gossip in this tavern is quite educational. Zorro was her lover…"

"Yes, perhaps."

"A man in love is a volatile creature, especially a swordsman of any calibre."

Ignacio nodded, he knew from his own experience.

Victoria came over to the two men, a worried frown on her face.

"Alcalde, Senora de Cipriana has left the tavern," Victoria said softly. "I think she may have taken your horse, Colonel."

Armand glanced at her surprised, and then stood. "Marcela… Good grief, she's a handful."

"Where would she go? It's not as if she knows the area," Ignacio said. "She'll get lost very easily."

"With her clothes, she'll be a target for bandits," the Colonel said with a little frustration.

"Mendoza!" Ignacio shouted, as he strode out of the tavern. "Mendoza, get here now!"

The sergeant was much quicker than usual. "Si, mi Alcalde?"

"Senora de Cipriana is riding without an escort. We need to find her, and provide a lancer for her personal security," Ignacio said firmly. The sergeant saluted and rushed to organise a search party. Ignacio ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. The Colonel glanced at him, and frowned.

"I will need a horse, Alcalde."

Zzzzzz

They rode out together and decided to split up after searching for no avail for about an hour. It was getting serious. Mendoza and Ignacio took 5 lancers and the Colonel took another 5 lancers.

Ignacio quickly outrode his sergeant and men, almost without realising it. The rocky outcrops would be a lookout post for most of the area, and he could get a vantage point. It would have been nice to have Zorro in attendance. Three men might do much better than two.

Marcela was wearing Parisian silk and Spanish lace. She wore discreet but obviously expensive jewellery. She was a prime target for bandits. Where would she try to head? She hadn't been seen on the main road back to Monterey. They had considered that route, thinking that if she had become distressed, she may have wanted to return to a more familiar environment.

A shrill scream made him startle, and turn his horse. Where had that come from? Slightly to the right? He urged the horse into a gallop, and kept his eyes peeled. It had been the scream of a terrified horse. Marcela's horse? He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, an oddly familiar sensation of dread.

He reined in, bracing himself for the sudden stop as he heard another scream. Listening hard, he leant forward in the saddle. It had been a woman's scream, loud and terrified. An answering roar chilled him. A mountain lion, a puma.

He urged the horse to move again, and this time he could see that she wasn't far away. She had managed to grab a branch and was defending herself as best she could. The horse was nowhere to be seen. Ignacio frowned, realising she would only make the puma angry, swinging the branch around.

"Marcela!" She looked at him, and he left his horse, scrambling closer to her. The mountain lion grew a little confused, and he took advantage of the few seconds' hesitation. He primed his pistol, and kept his eyes on her. He was almost within arms-reach of his sister, but so was the puma. He made the decision on the spur of the moment, and leapt in between the woman and the puma.

"Get out of here, Senora!" He gestured for her to leave, and he faced the puma. He let off a shot, but he was far too close, and it went wide. He gasped a little, and braced himself for claws and teeth.

The lion was upon him in an instant, and he struggled to keep its teeth from his throat. He was lucky it was a young lion, and not a full grown beast – he might just have a chance. He had a knife somewhere, if he could just thrust it away from him, or punch it hard enough… Claws tore at his shoulder, and pain interrupted his thought patterns, as he cried out in agony.

"Get away from him, beast!" Marcela yelled, and swung the large stick, striking the animal on its back. It made the lion turn its attention back to the lady, who swung the branch wildly. "Are you alright, Ignacio?" She swung again, this time hitting it on the nose. It started to advance again.

"I told you to get out," Ignacio said, reaching for the dagger in his boot. "Now, get out of the way." She was well and truly in the way, and she didn't seem like she was going to leave. Stupid De Soto pride, Ignacio realised.

There was the crack of a whip cutting through the air. Ignacio glanced towards the sound. Another crack of the whip. The lion hesitated and turned. The whip cracked again, and Zorro strode into sight, as if he'd never been away.

"Zorro…" Ignacio said, with wonder. "About time," he mumbled. It was loud enough for Zorro to glance at him with a hint of amusement on his face.

"Senorita…over here," Zorro said softly, making the young woman gaze at him with wonder. He held out his gloved hand, and gestured for her to move towards him. The lion was very aware of him, and was watching him carefully. "Move quickly…"

"Zorro." Marcela dropped the branch and stepped a little towards him. Zorro cracked the whip again, and the lion snarled at him. He strode towards the animal confidently, like a lion tamer, and cracked the whip once more. The lion considered the masked man for a moment, and then retreated completely.

Zorro grasped the young woman's hand, and gently led her towards Ignacio. Then he turned and helped the injured man to his feet.

Zorro was staring at them, from one face to another, and back again.

"I'm missing something," Zorro murmured. "The likeness is extraordinary…"

"Senora de Cipriana, this is El Zorro," Ignacio said softly. "Zorro, you have saved my life. Once again," he added.

Zorro glanced at him. His eyes were full of calm amusement. "Think nothing of it, Alcalde. You usually don't…"

He bowed over the lady's hand, but didn't kiss it. He didn't have to, she was enraptured.

"Senora, I am honoured. What are you doing fighting pumas?" The disapproval in his deep voice seemed to break a spell. She shook herself, and frowned.

"I didn't set out to, Senor," she said with a little huff, taking her hand out of his. "Oh, my beautiful dress. What will Armand say?"

Zorro glanced at Ignacio with a twinkle in his eyes. "A relative?"

"My sister, apparently."

"A brave lady," Zorro said, making the woman's eyes light up once again.

They were interrupted by the Colonel and his lancers. The Colonel kept his horse back, and stared at the little group. Ignacio's shoulder was dripping blood, and Marcela's dress was muddy and torn. Zorro seemed unscathed. Ignacio realised the picture they presented, but before he could intervene the Colonel reacted.

"El Zorro, I presume? Defend yourself," Armand demanded, clearly thinking that Zorro was accosting his wife. He drew a fine sabre and saluted. Zorro stood perfectly still, his hands away from the sabre hanging on his belt. Ignacio stepped back a little, seeing the Colonel's blade glint in the sunlight. It would at least be evenly matched. Armand de Cipriana had his own reputation for great swordsmanship.

"No, Armand. The man saved our lives. The lion… It was going to eat Ignacio…" Marcela said, a little excitedly. She stepped in front of Zorro, as if to protect him, and Armand lowered his sabre in confusion.

Zorro bowed a little, and kept his hand away from his sabre. He whistled for Toronado, without breaking eye contact with the Colonel. The thundering hooves were distracting. Marcela ran to her husband's arms, and he held her. He kissed her disarranged hair with relief. Armand dropped his eyes to scan his beloved wife for any injuries, and that was when Zorro moved.

"Alcalde, I would get that shoulder looked at. It's nasty," Zorro said, mounting the stallion. "Colonel…" He saluted the soldiers, and turned his horse aside. He soon disappeared in a thundering cloud of dust, as Toronado galloped away.

Note:

Now I will have to rewrite the other two stories to suit this new development. Thanks Ignacio...lol. At least it was a good chapter.


	25. Ignacio's Talk - Armand

Ignacio sat in Armand and Marcela's room at the Tavern. He hadn't had much of a choice. His sister dragged him up the stairs and tended to his wounds personally. Armand regarded him with a serious expression on his face, but with laughter in his eyes. Marcela was still a child, but Ignacio remembered his mother being like that. Overly affectionate, perhaps, but kind, loving and generous.

"Ignacio," the Colonel said. "We need to talk alone right now, mi Corazon," he added, looking at his wife. She was finishing up an elaborate bandage, with Hernandez's watchful supervision.

"Senora," the doctor said, stepping aside for her to leave the room with him.

"No, Armand. He's my brother and he is hurt, I will not have you bullying him…" Her voice was soft, but her hands were already on her hips, and her eyes were hard. "I am serious..."

"Of course you are," Armand said. He placed an arm around her. "I just forget you are so strong, my love. So brave…"

"That's better," she said. The doctor smiled and left the room.

"Ignacio. What was Zorro doing there?"

"Exactly what Marcela said? He frightened the lion away. The puma was not going to eat me, Marcela," Ignacio said with a tired smile. "Really."

"We need to tell father that you saved me," Marcela said enthusiastically. "Ignacio jumped in front of the lion, Armand. He was so brave."

"Must run in the family," Armand said, staring at the man for a moment. His eyes were thoughtful.

"What were you doing up there on the hill? It's very far from the pueblo," Ignacio said, his voice light and curious. "As we discovered, it was dangerous."

"We were very worried about you," Armand said, his voice hard. "Never leave without letting me know where you are going. This isn't Madrid."

Marcela looked at the floor, her eyes suddenly concerned. She reached up to her husband, and seemed completely contrite.

"I'm so sorry," Marcela said. "I didn't think. Someone said something about Zorro. I was curious. Masked men live in caves, don't they?"

"Probably not all the time," Ignacio said softly.

"I was searching all the caves I could find."

"The last one happened to be occupied?" Humour flashed into her husband's eyes, and his mouth tugged into a smile despite himself. "Really, I would have accompanied you. You didn't have to go alone. I would do anything you ask…almost anything."

"Zorro was so brave. It was like he had no fear of attack."

"He's always like that," Ignacio said softly. "He is always thinking on his feet."

"So he's not dead, Alcalde."

"No."

"We were very lucky he wasn't. What would have happened to Ignacio if he was dead?"

Ignacio was silent. He knew what would have happened. The lion was strong and very angry. Marcela might have been mauled, and he definitely would have been. He would have somehow got the lion's attention again, and his wound would have weakened him within a few moments. He would have died. A shudder went through him, violent and obvious.

Marcela draped a soft shawl around him, and shushed him when he started to protest.

"It's best if she gets her own way, Ignacio," Armand said softly, as his wife rose to fetch a strong drink from Victoria personally.

"She would have died. She should have run away. What was she thinking?"

"My Marcela never runs…from anything. A dragon could rip off the roof, and she would chase it. She should have been a boy. General material if ever I saw it."

Ignacio was silent. Marcela should have been a boy? A replacement for her namesake. The shawl was warming him through, and the small shakes were subsiding.

"How did Zorro know we needed him?"

"Zorro always knows…"

"How?"

Ignacio shrugged. "Given that the man saved Marcela and myself, I have no wish to hunt him down right now. Give me a few days to recover, and I will join you."

Armand sat slowly and faced the Alcalde. "Ignacio, I don't want to hurt the man. The governor wants to offer him a pardon. He has dealt with many issues that affected the territory, efficiently and without reward. The governor wants to know who to thank."

Ignacio looked at him. "Did you discuss this with anyone else?"

"Just Diego. I didn't realise it needed to be confidential."

"Diego de la Vega is a wise man," Ignacio said softly. "We should talk it over with him."

"I was planning to. I've been invited to come to dinner tonight. I could advise that you are coming with us as an extra guest. Diego was just reminding me of your potential again this morning. He won't mind."

Ignacio nodded. He shifted the wounded shoulder a little. Armand glanced at it, and used a discarded bandage to construct a collar and cuff sling, and guided the arm into a more comfortable position.

"Thank you, Colonel."

"I know I outrank you, Alcalde, but I am your brother now. Armand is good enough. I'm calling you Ignacio as it is."

"You are acquainted with my father, obviously…" Ignacio said. He couldn't help it. He was curious.

"Your father…" Armand frowned, and paused. He obviously needed to find words to express something hard.

"Marcela was trying to tell me that he loved me. He never loved me. Not from the moment I was born. He's told me… My hip was a little twisted, and he thought I would be deformed. Obviously I'm not. By the time he realised his error, I was deemed too loud, too clingy, too demanding. We never got on, never once in living memory."

"Marcela's life has not been comfortable. She thinks things that aren't always true. She wants certain things to be true, that aren't. She's an idealist. She looks for what she wants to see. Lots of people do it."

"Did my father ever hurt her?"

"Hurt her?"

"He had a whip…"

"No…Her pain was caused by his indifference and impatience. His hatred of you is real, but she will always have an excuse for it. Leave the issue alone. You know enough of your father. Marcela believes what she wants to believe."

Armand was thoughtful. "Zorro…who is he? He wears a mask because…why?"

"He is a regular visitor to the pueblo, perhaps he doesn't want anyone to know who he is."

"People believe what they want to believe," Armand said softly. "He is a local. He loves the area, and seeks to protect the people who live here. People would know who he is."

"I have tried to make people tell me in the past. No one knows," Ignacio said, wondering where the conversation was heading. "He's been careful not to share his identity with anyone. He's made sure to announce it in the middle of the pueblo."

"Well, he is a riddle… Diego used to love riddles. What does Diego think of him?"

Ignacio startled a little. "Diego…Well, I'd say he's possibly jealous of the man. He loves Victoria, but Zorro loves her as well."

Armand's eyes took on a thoughtful glint. Ignacio wondered if he had said too much. The gossip wasn't anything he wouldn't hear from another. The Colonel was smart, and he knew Diego from a young age.

"I'm sure that Diego would know how to reason it out. You know, I never really considered that he would before. Diego is always so distracted most of the time."

"Distracted?"

"Art…poetry…science…bird watching…music…"

"Oh." The single word was sharp.

"Yes, very talented, but also very distracted."

"I see."

Marcela burst through the door with a glass of brandy in her hand. "It's French…It will be good."

Armand took it before she spilled it, and handed it to Ignacio. He tossed it back in a gulp, and let the fiery alcohol burn through him. He wasn't shivering anymore.

"Thank you, Marcela."


	26. Ignacio's Dinner at the De La Vegas

Ignacio's Dinner at the de la Vegas

Ignacio waited outside the room for his sister and Armand de Cipriana. Armand was finished getting ready first, and casually joined him outside the door, closing it behind him.

"Is she ready?"

Armand shook his head slowly. "It's best if I wait out here, she is getting very cross in there," Armand said softly.

"She frightens you?" Ignacio said, with half a smile. One didn't gain the rank of Colonel for shrinking from battle. Armand shrugged.

"Let's just say, I prefer to choose my battles. She can't find the right shawl or something," Armand said thoughtfully.

"Aren't you meant to help her?"

"She normally as a maid to help, but we had to move quickly, and we haven't hired one yet," Armand said.

"There's bound to be someone who would like a job as a lady's maid somewhere in the pueblo," Ignacio said.

"If you could help with that, I would appreciate it. The governor's man in Monterey would hear of your dedication as well. Anything to help with these rages would be most appreciated, Ignacio. She is normally so mild tempered, but put her under social pressure and she goes completely to pieces."

"Don Diego is not one to judge anyone on their appearance…"

"Marcela hasn't met anyone quite like Don Diego. Remember her childhood wasn't the best of environments, Ignacio."

Ignacio remembered. His father had raged about society and expectations and rules and norms, and that was when his mother was alive to moderate him. Without his mother's gentle hand to guide his father, he would have been a tyrant. Marcela would have had to toe the line exactly, and somehow Ignacio couldn't see her being that successful. Her sweet looks had saved her from his father's whip, but not his temper.

"I'll see what I can do – first thing in the morning."

Armand nodded.

Zzzz

Diego had sent around the buggy, and Ignacio glanced around the tavern, seeking out Senora de la Vega. She didn't seem to be coming with them tonight.

"Senora de la Vega spent the afternoon tending to her husband's injured ankle," Armand informed him. He had seen the glance and smiled.

"Injured ankle?"

"Apparently… I challenged him to a fencing lesson," Armand said with a chuckle. "His skills were unlike the ones he had in Spain."

"Don Diego isn't the best swordsman in the world," Ignacio said with a nod. He wondered how Armand had fared. Diego seemed to be gaining some strength it seemed. "There is a reason he doesn't carry a sword."

"Yes, I'm sure." Armand turned, as he heard the rustle of silk. "You look so elegant and enchanting, mi Corazon." Ignacio admired his sister in her dark blue silk evening dress. She had a tiny waist, he realised, and the rest of her was stunning as well. Armand was speechless at her beauty for a few moments.

His wife blushed under her husband's adoring eyes, and went to Ignacio's side.

"How are you, Ignacio? Is your wound annoying you? Are you resting as you should?"

"He's fine, Marcela," Armand said. He offered her his arm, and she took it, snuggling slightly to his side. Armand placed a protective hand over hers and they went out to the buggy.

Ignacio got in the buggy first, and moved across to let the senora sit in across from him. Armand waited until she was seated comfortably and got in as well.

Zzzz

Don Diego greeted them at the front door, with Dona Victoria his elbow. Felipe was dressed for the dinner as well, and Diego obviously expected him to fulfil as much of a family role as possible. Dressed appropriately, Don Felipe was quite a handsome young man.

The dinner was an interesting occasion, in Ignacio's opinion. Marcela was seated to Diego's right, and Armand was seated on Victoria's right, and the couples faced each other for comfort sake. Felipe sat at Diego's left and Ignacio found himself on Victoria's. Don Alejandro was staying in Monterey on some matters of business. It was probably best that way, for the talk they were about to have, Ignacio thought.

They were treated to a finely made garlic soup, steaming hot from the de la Vega kitchens. Ignacio had never tasted anything so hearty and warming in his life. He savoured every mouthful, because it was very unlikely this invitation would ever be extended to him again.

"Don Diego, do you have many horses?" Marcela asked, in between mouthfuls. Ignacio smiled at his sister. She was so innocent of the territory – it was almost funny to hear her ask that question. The de la Vegas had always prided themselves on their horses and the skills that went with them.

"Yes," Diego said softly, with a friendly twinkle in his eyes. "Many fine horses, Senora. If your husband agrees, you are very welcome to ride at any time. As is Armand, by the way…" Armand nodded his agreement.

"I would be honoured. So would my wife, Don Diego," Armand said. "Your stock have interested me since Madrid. You were so boastful about your favourites back then."

Diego smiled as if at the memory.

"You can't have my father's mount. Dulcinea is too wild for anyone except my father."

"Really, Diego? There was a time you would be able to master such a horse," Armand said thoughtfully. "Well, time changes a man I suppose. No sword skills, or horsemanship either? A pity, Diego."

Victoria and Felipe seemed to glance at Diego with concern.

"Just as my father said only the other week. Perhaps it might be time to get some lessons…"

"Diego, I don't want you hurting yourself," Victoria said, defensively. "You are barely recovering as it is."

"I'm sure the Colonel would be gentle with me, querida. He's an old friend – who better to trust myself to…" Diego's eyes turned to his wife, and Ignacio caught the glance of love flicker between them. "I would trust that man with my life." There was an odd glance at Armand, one that Ignacio could not understand.

They were served veal in leak sauce, with plenty of potatoes. The veal obviously came from the de la Vegas stock of cattle – it was very fresh and tender. It was a luxury Ignacio had rarely experienced, although Diego seemed to be very accustomed to it.

"I have never tasted anything like this Diego," Armand said softly. "The governor would pay handsomely for this level of quality. You should inform him."

"The less I have to deal with powerful people, the better, Armand. They tend to make me nervous," Diego said. Ignacio almost smiled at that one – it was very honest.

For dessert they were served crema catalona, a creamy custard flan. Ignacio had never even heard of such things before, but everything tasted very enjoyable.

Marcela exclaimed over the churros and hot chocolate that Diego offered at the end of the meal, and the ladies took theirs to the library. Diego and the other men watched them go with a sense of relief.

"Well, then, gentlemen," Armand said. "The subject of Zorro, and this pardon…"

Diego shifted a little, Ignacio noticed. Felipe shot Ignacio a tiny glance before he turned his attention back to his chocolate. Armand seemed not to see the discomfort of his old friend.

"Zorro doesn't trust government officials, Colonel. I doubt he will trust this pardon idea," Ignacio said. "Don Diego would attest to that idea. We have all witnessed the treacherous actions of a few men over the past couple of years particularly."

Diego turned a sharp glance at the Alcalde.

"As you could admit to, Alcalde. You have betrayed the man's trust on more than one occasion," Diego said with distaste. Ignacio squirmed under the hard gaze.

"Yes, well that is past, now is now. The whole world is changing, Diego. We could perhaps convince the man to at least listen to us," Armand said, trying to rein in the topic.

Ignacio sensed Diego's distrust and suspicion from across the room. Diego seemed more and more like Zorro, and he felt the sense of threat he usually felt when he confronted the Fox.

"Why would he listen to any of us?" Diego said.

"He seems to like your family, Diego," Ignacio said abruptly. "Think of all the times he has saved you or your father. All those times he saved Victoria."

"I think that would be a reason not to listen to me, don't you? He loves Victoria, and I was fortunate to actually marry the woman. That would act against me in any trust or truce arrangement. I would not want to be the lead negotiator in this. The man probably hates me."

"Possibly. We don't know. We won't know until we speak directly with the man," Armand said softly. "Everything would have to be above board, completely open. The man has some sort of messaging system. There are absolutely no traps, Diego. This is completely legitimate."

"You would say that even if it wasn't. You obviously think I have some connection to the outlaw," Diego said, defensively. "You think Victoria would talk to him? He has always been very unpredictable, and now he has only appeared on a few occasions, only twice since my marriage. Clearly his enthusiasm is waning for this pueblo, and I for one can't blame him. His rewards for helping have always been lancers firing at his back."

Ignacio sighed. "Don Diego, I think the issue is how to help the man, not hurt him."

"As I have already said, Zorro doesn't even have to unmask to take up the pardon. No obligation, but the governor would prefer it if we could deliver it personally. Would you have any idea how to predict his movements? Besides arresting Victoria," Armand said, staring hard at Diego.

"A poster in the tavern seemed to work once," Ignacio said thoughtfully.

"That was a trap," Diego retorted. Felipe stood and rested a hand on his shoulder. Diego seemed to relax, just a little. Ignacio felt for the man – all the traps and betrayals over the years must have been so discouraging. It was amazing the stamina of the man really, he thought.

"It got his attention…" Ignacio found himself saying.

"We'll do that then." Armand turned to Diego. "Diego, it's a good thing, and Zorro's life will calm down a lot. He could move freely in the plaza, help those who need his help without running from lancers. We could even hire him to train the troops in Los Angeles. They seem to need a bit of expert guidance."

Diego sighed. "I'm just a little tired, Armand. This is the first day I've been up all day, and it's draining. It does sound possible. Zorro may love this idea. As you say, we have no idea what the man thinks. Zorro just makes me edgy. He loves my wife so much, and he is a dangerous, unpredictable man."

"Yes, indeed," Ignacio murmured thoughtfully. "Zorro makes a lot of men edgy, Don Diego."

"I will put the poster up tomorrow after siesta," Armand declared. Ignacio noticed Diego nod and look down at his feet.

Diego looked exhausted and spent. The 'fencing lesson' probably took a lot out of him, Ignacio realised. Diego stood wearily, and almost stumbled. Felipe took his arm as if nothing happened, and together the four of them went to join the ladies in the library.

Ignacio noticed the stiffness and exhaustion in Diego's body as he moved carefully. Felipe helped him to a seat, and then found himself one. Ignacio watched the boy pick up a book, and soon the teenager was absorbed in it. Ignacio wondered what the boy was so interested in, but try as he might, he couldn't read the cover from where he was. The candlelight was warm and gave a pretty glow, but for reading text from across the room, he had no hope.

"How are you ladies?" Armand asked gently, as he joined his wife on the three seat lounge.

"Thank you, Don Diego, for the hot chocolate. I have never tasted churros before, and the hot chocolate was amazing…"

"Thank you Senora for accepting my invitation. It is wonderful to finally meet the lady who has stolen Armand's heart," Diego said gently. "You are a credit to your husband." She blushed a little.

"Armand, do you think we could go riding soon?" Marcela asked softly. Armand held her hand gently, and glanced across at Diego.

"Whenever you and your husband wish, Senora. It's dangerous to ride out alone in this area. There are so many bandits," Diego said. Victoria came over to him, and gave him a quick glance. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he felt the wonderful warmth of her presence.

"Brandy, gentlemen?" Don Diego offered. Felipe seemed quite interested, but Diego shook his head at his young son. Armand and Ignacio both looked across at Marcela at the same time, and realised immediately that she was exhausted.

"Everyone is exhausted, Diego. I think it's best if we make it an early night," Armand said, standing up, and helping his wife to her feet. Ignacio stood as well, making sure he followed the Colonel's actions in all things. "It was a pleasure to spend time with you as always, Diego. Thank you so much for dinner. I haven't eaten like that since Madrid."

"We will have to make it a regular thing, Armand. Monterey is not that far away after all," Diego said, moving to stand.

"No, Diego. Relax, you look incredibly drained…" Armand said softly. "Senora, look after your husband." Victoria nodded. "Come on, Ignacio."


	27. Ignacio and Padre Benitez

Ignacio and Padre Benitez

Ignacio De Soto noticed Diego de la Vega arrive at the Tavern. He was vaguely surprised, and he sat back down in his seat. He had just been about to go and talk to Armand about some way to encourage Zorro to accept the pardon in person. He heard Marcel's reaction to the man, and noticed the dons in the corner glance up and over to him. They nudged a particular obnoxious friend, and he stood up and crossed over to the tired young man.

Here's trouble, Ignacio thought. Don Sebastian was a well-known trouble maker. He waited for Diego's reaction to the man, and wondered what the man would do.

The older man spoke softly, and Ignacio watched Diego's face as the young man forced a smile to his face. A dark expression crossed the young man's face, after a few minutes of talking. Diego folded his arms, and his voice rose a little in anger. It was impossible for everyone in the tavern not to notice him now.

"Don Sebastian, my wedding is no one else's concern except my own. Padre Benitez sanctified the wedding; it was all done according to certain rules. I would prefer it if you don't speak of it again," Diego's voice rang out in the tavern. He didn't seem to notice how his voice carried. He didn't seem to care if it did. Don Sebastian went back to the table where he had come from.

Diego sighed, and kept his arms folded. Pilar made her way over to him, to enquire about an order. His polite smile came back to his lips but not his eyes, Ignacio noticed. He ordered something and the woman moved away.

Ignacio considered the younger man thoughtfully. He looked very tired and worn down, but he was stubborn enough to hold himself up straight and proud. Perhaps he should alert Armand and get the other man to take him home on some pretext. Diego de la Vega was not strong enough to go gallivanting across the territory. Maybe he could do something about it, himself.

Ignacio De Soto walked over to him, as Pilar brought over Diego's lemonade.

"Should you be out and about, Don Diego?" The Alcalde said with concern.

"I have business to attend to. My wife needs a lady's maid," Diego said, drinking his lemonade quickly.

"So does my sister. How do you suppose we find some?" Ignacio said softly, hoping to build just a little camaraderie. Diego always seemed to respond to someone asking for help. He wasn't too disappointed with the response.

Diego raised his eyebrows. "Maybe Padre Benitez has some idea. He is aware of everything in the pueblo."

"Maybe we should have invited him to talk about Zorro and how to contact him…" The Alcalde said.

"I'm sure with all this fuss, Zorro is well aware of what is going on. He's probably not interested," Diego said dismissively. "If you'll excuse me, I am going to visit the Padre."

Obviously mentioning Zorro had been a bad idea, Ignacio thought.

"I'll come with you, Don Diego." He didn't want the man being overtaken by a dizzy spell and ending up hurt in the middle of the plaza. There were a lot of carts moving about today, and it would not be good to have the man under the wheels of one of them.

Diego shrugged, clearly unperturbed with what he did. The young man walked slowly and carefully towards the church. Ignacio walked close by, struggling to match the young man's lengthy strides.

The church was quiet and they found the Padre quickly. He was near the front door, sweeping.

"Padre Benitez," Diego said, warmly greeting his old friend. "You look very well."

"So do you, Diego. Come in, come in. What can I do for you both?"

The Alcalde was a little embarrassed by the warm welcome. "I wanted to enquire if you knew any young women who may wish to be employed by the Colonel and his wife, as a lady's maid. The Colonel is happy to pay very well," he said quickly, feeling a little uneasy and exposed suddenly. He had spent a lot of time with the Padre over the last couple of weeks, and seeing him in the company of Diego who was also Zorro, who was in turn his deadliest enemy, was a little strange.

"I will just have to ask around, Ignacio. I'm sure someone will be willing. Do they need any experience?" The padre's voice was soft and gentle. He met his eyes, and Ignacio was aware that the man was trying to get him to stay calm, and centred, as they had talked about.

"No, it's just someone to help Senora de Cipriana, with her duties. I'm sure the maid could learn as she went," the Alcalde said.

"I will consider it carefully, Ignacio. I don't want to keep you from your work. You have doing such a good job lately. I am sure many people are pleasantly surprised by you. Good work, my son."

The Alcalde paled and nodded. He left the church quickly.

The padre was fast becoming a firm friend and confidant. He was unsure if he was comfortable with the growing friendship, but it was safe. He knew it was safe. The reputation of the man had preceded him. He kept confidences safe, and he was a wise man. He had poured out his heart in the confessional not long ago, and all the guilt and anguish had eased a little. The padre didn't even seem shocked by the tale, and he had embraced him afterwards.

Padre Benitez had told him to keep coming, to keep talking to him. He longed for his visits to the padre and the physical reassurance of just a hand on his arm. It was almost as if God had forgiven him and had given someone to help him. Ignacio shook his head, it was foolishness of course, and there was no forgiveness for what he had done over his years in service, let alone that day so long ago. It was nice to be given comfort, though. It was nice to think someone thought he could be forgiven, that he could change for the better, that he was worth redeeming. He doubted it himself, but the warmth of the older man, with his eyes of complete understanding was encouraging.

Ignacio glanced back at the church, as he paused outside his office. Diego de la Vega should be in his own warm bed, not wandering the pueblo. Padre Benitez was wise enough to be able to guide the young man in the right direction. If Ignacio had tried it, he thought Diego would be more likely to run around the place more just to spite him. Ignacio swung himself through his doors, and crossed over to his desk. What was in store for him today? He wondered how the day would go, as he sat in the ornate chair by the large desk. All those letters of complaint or supplication needed to be dealt with at least. He sighed. It was going to be a busy day. He hoped a few bandits would try to get the better of him. At least that would bring some excitement to the day.


	28. Ignacio's Week

Ignacio's week

Ignacio didn't see Diego for a while, and it seemed as if he wouldn't see Zorro either by the looks of things.

On the Monday, he had errands to see to in Monterey. He needed to do some banking and enquire about ladies maids further afield. Marcella had his temper it seemed, and things were getting broken in the room. Armand was spending a little more time with Ignacio in the business end of the tavern, and he looked a little miserable.

"She has such a kind soul, Ignacio, but you wouldn't think it at the moment," Armand said, softly, flinching as a crash echoed from upstairs.

"She doesn't throw stuff at you?"

"No, she just throws things. It makes her feel better," Armand murmured, and he took a sip of his wine. "Where do you think we are with Zorro?"

"You could just issue the pardon generally. He wouldn't have to accept it or the offer of employment. He seems a little distracted right now, anyway."

"We could ride out and investigate…"

"It could give Marcella an excuse to get out in the open air, and enjoy herself. She obviously needs to let off a little steam," Armand said thoughtfully as something else crashed against the wall.

"Hmm," Ignacio said. "You knew she was like this before you married her?"

"Yes…no. She had a lady's maid then. It keeps her calm and relaxed. She needs the company of other women, Ignacio."

"Perhaps when she has children she will settle. You sometimes see that with mares," Ignacio said with mild interest. "It's a thought."

"Well, let's give Diego a visit," Armand said thoughtfully. "I'll help her, if I have to tie her down to do it," he added, already up and heading towards the stairs.

Zzz

They rode out to the de la Vega hacienda and give the horses to the grooms to hold. Felipe came to let them in, and shrugged when they asked about Diego.

Maria, the housekeeper, came to the door, and walked them back out. "Don Diego and Dona Victoria are indisposed this morning and won't be taking any visitors right now," she said firmly.

Armand and Ignacio looked at each other, and shrugged a little.

"I thought Diego would make his illness worse, gallivanting all over the pueblo the other day," Marcella said thoughtfully. "Victoria must be taking care of him…I'm glad."

Ignacio sighed, and retrieved his horse. He had wasted a morning when he could have been doing a lot of other things. Armand followed his lead, gathering his own and Marcella's horse.

"Ignacio, good luck today with all your tasks. I am taking my wife out for a picnic," Armand said, and waved to the disgruntled Alcalde.

Ignacio rode back very discontented. He had a lot to do. He still had to work on that stupid aqueduct that Alejandro had authorised during his few days as Alcalde. It had been posted too quickly for Ignacio to rescind the order, and it had gone through. Now all the work that had to be done for the project was exhausting. He could see the future prospects of the project, a more predictable water supply and adequate supply. Businesses would flourish and grow, but it would take a long time to build. He would be old and grey and not receive any profit personally from the endeavour.

On his arrival, he stormed through the doors of his office.

"Mendoza!" He roared, before he got his temper under control. "My boots need polishing," he growled when the sergeant appeared. "I want to see my face, sergeant!"

Mendoza grabbed the boots and ran. The Alcalde sat at his desk and sulked. Zorro had always handled the bandits and left him to do as he wished, as long as he didn't hurt anyone…How accurate was that? He seemed to interfere in everything. Now if he was honest, he missed it.

He went through the papers again. He had to head off to Monterey quickly now, and he had delayed his journey long enough. That inkling of hope he'd had of being able to talk Diego around to his view of things was fading fast. The man was as stubborn as he was.

Zzz

On Tuesday, he was on his way back from his time in Monterey. He considered his life, and his goals. He had no clue what they were right now. It had all been focused on capturing and killing Zorro. Now it wasn't an option, and he had to discover who he was all over again.

He'd wanted glory and prestige, to prove he was better than he was. To prove he was great, he would do anything, trick anyone, scramble to the top of the heap. It all seemed very shallow and far away – like a childhood dream. It had got him nowhere. He had become nothing but a laughing stock, and a paragon of villainy.

He wanted to make Felipe's life easier, sure, but that drive was fading with the memory of the blood stained wedding dress that had sparked all of his dreadful flashbacks. With the entrance of his sister, and chance of a friendship with a great man, he wanted to make his sister happy and proud of him. She was sensitive and excitable, but she would be seriously be offended if he went against her sense of right and wrong. He would do anything to make her smile. She was his second chance.

Zzzz

On Wednesday, a lady's maid came to Armand's door and knocked. The crash of china ornaments sent her rushing downstairs again, much to Ignacio's amusement. Armand opened the door to no one, and sighed, as he saw Ignacio.

"That's the third one this week. If only they'd apply next week, I'm sure this is just one of her silly turns. They seem to last about a week, and then she settles down again."

"Well, it's more honest this way, Armand. She's bound to have a week like this in their presence. It saves time in the long run," Ignacio replied. "Maybe you just have to ease the pressure on her in these weeks, let her lie down or something."

"Excuse me," a soft voice interrupted gently. "I am enquiring about the position of a lady's maid for Senora de Cipriana. Am I in the right place?"

The men turned to glance at the softly spoken lady behind them, expecting a fine English lady, from the sound of her accent. She was a small, slender Indian woman.

"I'm sorry…" Ignacio began. Armand shushed him immediately, and drew her forward.

"By all means, Senorita," Armand said encouragingly. There was a crash of something again. He winced. Ignacio wondered if there were any decorative items left in their possession. Maybe she was throwing crockery now.

"That is your wife? Is this a common occurrence?" The woman said thoughtfully. "Perhaps one week out of four?"

"Yes, one week out of four. Exactly I would say," Armand said with wonder. "How did you know?"

"I have dealt with such things before. She is even tempered most of the time?" Armand nodded.

"You have experience?"

"I was with an English lady for quite some time. She died recently in Monterey, and I've just seen the notice. Here are my credentials," she said, handing the papers to the Colonel. "I am quite prepared to be considered for the role. I did have the misfortune to pass a very disgruntled lady on her way out, saying she would never ever consider such a lady to work with."

"Well, I thought the lady in question wasn't quite what we had in mind, myself," Armand said thoughtfully. "If you would like to follow me, I can introduce you to my wife. I am sure she would love to meet you."

Armand glanced at Ignacio, and gave him a thumbs up. Ignacio shrugged and sighed, and went back down the stairs.

Zzz

On Thursday, Ignacio was aware of the new lady's maid. Marcella was very happy to have the strange little Indian woman with the English accent, and had calmed down a lot with her caring and firmness.

"This is Gushing Stream," Marcella said, introducing her new maid to Ignacio. "Isn't she beautiful? She is so wise and helpful."

"That's very good, Marcella," Ignacio said, a little distracted. "I have some things to do today, Marcella. You are in my office and in the way a little, excuse me," he added, as he pushed past her a little to get to his cupboard.

"Alcalde, it is good to see you working hard to keep the pueblo running well," Gushing Stream said softly. "Come Mistress, we were going riding with friends, remember?"

"Oh yes, have a nice day, Ignacio," Marcella said cheerfully, waving to Ignacio in her excited way. He smiled and waved back, and turned back to his books.

The budget he had to work with was close to the red, and would slip if he didn't do something about it. He couldn't increase the taxes again, and he wouldn't push people to pay their debts right now. It was too risky as far as his relationship with Marcella and the strange sense of truce starting to filter in his mind with Zorro.

He thought about the reward money for Zorro's capture. He could use that to prop up the accounts. He could be more economical with his outlay next month, and save more instead of spending everything. He would have to take down the posters, just in case someone actually managed to catch the man and wanted the non-existent money. He glanced towards the familiar poster of Zorro on his notice board, and grimaced a little. He didn't want to make a song and dance about the removal, but he could just remove them, couldn't he? Maybe no one would notice.

He walked over to the notice board, and tore the parchment from its pins. Then he tore it in half and then half again. He smiled in satisfaction at the sound, and threw the pieces into the trash bin.

Zzz

On Friday, the news in town was the impeding church wedding of Diego de la Vega and Victoria Escalante. The town had mostly accepted their original marriage but the traditionalists were happy. The church would be richly decorated and the dress and everything would be amazing. So said all the gossips in town. Surely they must be right, Ignacio mused with a little cynicism.

He was glad that Diego was going to be happy. It didn't make any difference to his life and his plans though. While Diego was happy, though, maybe he would be more likely to agree to the pardon and the offer of employment. He wouldn't want to endanger his wife and future children. He would want to give up the outlaw life and settle down.

Maybe in the past he would have decided to threaten and force, but he was content to wait a little longer. Patience was growing on him. It seemed to work with Armand and his volatile wife.


	29. Ignacio's Achievements

Ignacio's Achievements

Ignacio De Soto sat in his finest uniform next to his sister's maid, in his brother-in-law's pew at the church. Gushing Stream was dressed as finely as Marcella, and despite himself, he smiled at her. He was growing used to having the woman around, despite his aversion to Indians of any sort. Her manners were impeccable, and very European.

The organ began, and the women turned to catch a glimpse of the bride. The dress took their breath away, and Ignacio noticed the finery was not Victoria's. The wedding dress must have been provided by Alejandro, because it was made of silk, not cotton as the other one had been. Fine lace edged the high neck line, and the cuffs of her long sleeves, and diamonds were scattered in her hair. Amazing beadwork covered the dress, and the train was long and lacy as well. He couldn't see her face under the thick veil, but her body language was shy and awkward, and she stepped carefully in the dress, aware of the finery.

She walked down the aisle on the arm of Francisco Escalante, a tall and muscular young man, slightly younger than Diego. Diego de la Vega was in awe of his bride, and much more relaxed than his real marriage several months before. As they reached him, he took her arm and nodded to Francisco.

The ceremony was simple and quick.

They went to the tavern to partake in the large buffet that Pilar had organised for the wedding reception. The room was full of conversation and laughter. He watched Diego with Victoria and he realised he had never seen either of them look so happy. He wondered a little if he would ever be so happy himself.

Gushing Stream sat across from him at their table, and smiled shyly at him.

"They are very much in love, Alcalde. Isn't that amazing, in this evil world, that two people could come together and discover that love? They don't even need words, they've barely spoken the whole time," she said softly.

"They have been married officially for over two months now. You'd think they would have talked enough," Ignacio said, a little cynically.

Gushing Stream smiled. "I think it is wonderful, Alcalde."

Ignacio turned and glanced at the couple, and repressed a smile. He was happy for them, he supposed. It was causing a lot of frustration all round, though, as he had to deal with bandits and everything all on his own, and may have to for a long time. He would have liked to have granted the pardon by now as well, but that would have to wait until after the honeymoon now, he realised. Diego seemed completely distracted by his wife right now, and there was no hope in talking to him.

Zzz

It had been several months since the de la Vegas had left on their honeymoon. Colonel de Cipriana had made his way back to Monterey, declaring to return when Diego showed his face again, taking with him Marcella and the young maid, Gushing Stream.

Gushing Stream had written to him ever since. She had told him it was alright to call her Gretel, as her former mistress had, if he wanted to.

Her writing was delicate and artistic, and he was starting to look forward to her weekly letters. He had written back once or twice, but she wrote weekly without fail, conveying his sister's endearments as well as communicating about the world of Monterey and the social whirl they were beginning to find themselves in.

She had informed him of the impending birth of Marcella's first child, just the other week, and he waited to learn more about how his sister was faring. He was a little concerned, and distracted, hardly keeping his mind on his work in the pueblo.

After a rough time with the latest bandits, which resulted in an injured shoulder, he received visitors.

"Ignacio, where are you? Are you alright?" Marcella's voice wafted through to his private apartment, as he was sitting up in bed, dressed only in his nightshirt and night cap, eating some breakfast that Mendoza had prepared.

He hurriedly removed the nightcap, and sat a little straighter. He felt a little undignified dressed as he was, but his sister was worried. Marcella was a little distraught and had imagined him dead, apparently.

"Thank goodness, you are looking a little healthy…" Marcella said a little disappointed that he wasn't more seriously hurt. Ignacio wondered if he should be a little annoyed with her fatalism.

"I was never at death's door, Marcella. It's just a flesh wound in the shoulder," Ignacio complained, as she dramatically asked if he needed some warm broth.

She sighed and pouted a little.

"How is your health? You are expecting a baby shortly. Why on earth is Armand letting you rush around like a butterfly?"

"Armand is busy," Marcella said crossly, crossing her arms as she sat on the edge of the bed. Ignacio glanced at Gretel, as he liked to call her.

"Colonel de Cipriana is on manoeuvres, Alcalde. It is rather straight forward, but the Senora is not happy about it," Gretel said with a slight smile.

"He will be back for the birth?"

"No doubt he will," Gretel said gently, watching Marcella. She was fidgeting with her handkerchief and staring at the wall. "He will, Senora. He will definitely be back for the birth."

"That's if he survives at all," Marcella said with a dramatic sniff.

"It's at the training facility. He is training new recruits, Senora."

"Well, accidents do happen, you know."

"Not often," Gretel said with finality. "We will go to the tavern and rent some rooms, Alcalde. If you wish to visit later, we will be at leisure shortly."

He watched them as they left the room. He was amused at the easy way Gretel could deal with his temperamental sister, and the gracious way she carried out her duties. Marcella definitely considered her a firm friend. He wondered what Gretel thought of his sister.

Zzz

Marcella and Gretel stayed for a while. Armand had written to them, telling them to accept Ignacio's offer of protection until the Colonel was ready to return to his wife, in case any thing went wrong with the pregnancy. Marcella was relieved and enjoyed spending time with her brother.

Gretel spent time in the Tavern with her mistress, and some time wandering the pueblo. She volunteered at the church, and helped the poor and the sick and the needy, encouraging Marcella to join her. Marcella enjoyed spending her time helping people, and it helped pass the time more quickly.

The Alcalde regularly visited the church to talk with Padre Benitez. It had become a habit earlier, the padre was so wise, and helpful in coming to terms with his past. His regular talks seemed to help him run the pueblo fairly and Los Angeles had never known such peace and quiet. If Zorro had been in residence he may have been impressed.

He was finding the regular visits stimulating, and he looked forward to catching a glimpse of his sister and Gretel. He seemed to be making his visits an everyday occasion these days. The sight of the women always seemed to warm his heart. If he was lucky enough to catch a snippet of golden laughter from either of them, it eased his worries for the rest of the day.

Ignacio had gradually removed all of the wanted posters of Zorro, and no one had noticed. If they had, no one mentioned it. He replaced them with posters of the pardon, still waiting for the masked man to come forward, officially. Unofficially the pardon was already in place, Ignacio and Armand had already discussed it and agreed to it, advising the governor – the governor had already signed it into being. In reality it was a piece of paper, waiting to be handed to the local hero on his request.

Zzzz

Ignacio knew the de la Vegas had returned, and he knew that Victoria had entered her confinement. Diego was obviously reluctant to leave his wife's side, because no one had seen him since his return. They had only been back for about two weeks, when he saw Diego.

He would have greeted him, but he had been riding his father's cantankerous mare, the fiery Dulcinea, at the time. He was having a devil of a time controlling his mount, and he didn't want to distract the man. He seemed very distracted as it was.

Ignacio followed the man into town, and watched him enter the tavern. Going into the tavern, he caught the snippets of gossip. Victoria was shortly to give birth, and Diego had been sent away to wait. The Alcalde sat down at his normal table and watched the man.

Diego seemed to be getting increasingly distressed and fidgety and before long he was back on his horse and out of the tavern again. Alejandro and Felipe decided to follow close behind in the de la Vega buggy. Ignacio silently wished him all the best.

Zzzz

The news spread around pueblo very quickly about the birth of the de la Vega twin boys. Marcella was impressed by the idea of twins, and queried Gretel about her own pregnancy. She demanded to be examined to find out if she was expecting twins as well, and was quickly assured that it was a single child in her womb. She was a trifle disappointed.

Ignacio accompanied his sister and her maid to the de la Vega hacienda to congratulate Diego and Victoria. He was greeted with a measure of calm distrust, but Marcella was welcomed with Victoria's open arms.

"I was not aware that you were pregnant too, Marcella. Our babies may grow to play together," Victoria said excitedly.

"This is Ramon," she said, introducing the youngest and smallest first. He was bright eyed, and had dark bushy hair, and Diego's bright blue eyes. "And this is Carlos," she added. The elder of the two was exactly the same, only plumper. The women spent a few moments enthralled by the tiny children, cradling them close and cuddling them carefully.

"Congratulations, Diego. They are fine, strong boys," Ignacio said softly. Diego startled a little, and smiled reluctantly. "They are the spitting image of you."

"Yes, it does seem like that, Alcalde," Diego said with a small smile as he glanced at his sons.

"Colonel de Cipriana will be back in the pueblo shortly. He has been training new recruits in Monterey for a few months. Marcella will be entering her confinement soon as well. Hopefully his duties will be fulfilled before that begins," Ignacio said, glancing at his sister. "She misses her husband."

"Armand is a doting husband, and will be a doting father as well," Diego said with a nod.

"Armand still insists on the pardon for Zorro. It is actually in effect at the moment, regardless of his decision. We haven't seen him for months."

"Maybe he has retired, Alcalde." Diego paused for a moment, and glanced into Ignacio's eyes. "I have heard rumours of your dedication to the people of Los Angeles. Perhaps he doesn't see the need to interfere any more. You seem to be doing his work for him," Diego said softly.

"To tell the truth, I would appreciate his help from time to time. The bandits are becoming a little more than I can handle myself, and the lancers are very substandard, as they always have been. They respond a little better these days, but still…"

"I see," Diego said thoughtfully. "Well, you never know, Alcalde. Zorro has defended this pueblo from outside forces in the past, not just your injustices. Perhaps he will again."


	30. Ignacio's Feelings

Ignacio's Feelings

Ignacio De Soto was never clear on when he realised he had feelings for his sister's maid. One morning, he paused in the doorway of the church, and heard her laughter, and something twigged in his mind, and his heart.

He waited for the feelings to disappear, as he waited for Benitez to finish what he was doing and escort him to his office for their daily chat. They ebbed and flowed like a wave, and he breathed deeply and they seemed to dissipate.

He was being stupid, he reasoned. She was a maid, and she was an Indian. Two things he disdained, very much openly in the past. He had just been spending too much time in her company. It was his sister he cared about, and Gushing Stream cared about her too. It was just a mutual interest between them.

She was Gretel to him, and he needed to remember that name over the other. It didn't seem to suit her though, with her upper class English accent and her delicate bone structure. He would have expected a Gretel to be of German descent with heavy set features – blonde and blue eyed, with huge forearms, like the Germans in his experience had always been.

Gretel – he had to keep it Gretel – was so much different from that. She was small, and agile, quick on her feet if the situation called for it. Her dark hair was always pinned up on top of her head, but he could imagine it flowing around her shoulders and down her back in graceful waves. Her eyes were not blue, they were a deep brown. She gazed out at the world with a clear wisdom, and caution was deep within. Her skin was not white like a northern European's. It was a remarkably pretty soft reddish brown, like the rest of her people, but he hadn't noticed the colour of her skin for a long time.

She had lived a long, hard life for one so young.

The English accent attested to a childhood outside her natural home. Her fashions were witness to her upbringing and her manners, impeccable though they were, were evidence of a harsh education.

He shook his head. It was no business of his what her childhood was like. It had obviously been for the best. She had employment and was well taken care of in the household of his sister. She had been employed since she was a teenager, and had saved quite a deal of money. No as much as a wealthy caballero's widow, but much better than any other Indian in his experience. When she was an older woman, she would be able to afford a small cottage somewhere remote and peaceful, without any concerns whatsoever.

He had seen the reactions of the dons and their ladies to the maid, and it sometimes irritated him. They avoided getting too close, or touching her by accident. The wealthy people of the town all looked down on her, because of the colour of her skin – he couldn't see any other reason for the disgust in their eyes.

Indians in the pueblo and outside on the tribal lands did not accept her either. They avoided her and never spoke to her. She had looked a little wistful glancing at them once, and he had asked her why.

"The life I may have had seems a little romantic to me sometimes, Alcalde," she said with a sigh. "But you realise, it would have been a hard life either way. Life is always hard."

He had nodded thoughtfully at the time, but he wondered now. She accepted life as hard, but she was willing to help the poor, the downtrodden, the dirty and homeless. She helped with laughter in her soul, and strong hands to pull them up and set them on the right path. She never complained, but in quiet moments, when she thought no one saw, she seemed sad. Ignacio had seen such moments.

Zzzz

The picnic was a great idea, Ignacio thought. He had taken the day off, to watch over his sister, as she neared her confinement. He didn't want her hurting herself, and she was excitable enough as it was. Marcela never considered her actions before she jumped in head first. She was getting larger and a little clumsier as her time went on.

Ignacio had purchased a buggy with some of his pay that he had saved up. It was fine vehicle, and well sprung for the comfort mainly of his sister. He drove it himself, and made sure he kept the horse to a sedate trot.

"I wish we could go faster, Ignacio," Marcela complained. She was a little like their elder brothers, longing for speed and danger, and excitement. He smiled a little, and nodded.

"You must think of your baby now, Senora," Gretel said softly.

"Yes," Marcela said thoughtfully, as she placed a hand on her enlarged belly. "I suppose my confinement will be soon."

"As I told you before, there is nothing to worry about, Senora. You are very healthy and strong, and your confinement will be over and done with very quickly. You will have a beautiful baby to hold and care for."

"Like Dona Victoria," Marcela said.

"No. Dona Victoria has two," Ignacio heard himself saying with a soft chuckle.

Marcela threw a soft cushion at him.

"Where is this pretty little spot? Is it near the river, Ignacio?"

"Yes. Under a large tree, nice and shady. We don't want you getting too hot, Marcela."

"Alcalde, I believe there have been bandits lurking around the pueblo lately," Gretel said softly, so as not to alarm Marcela. She had crept closer to him, and she touched his arm.

The touch sent shivers through him, and he stiffened. She withdrew her hand quickly.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Alcalde. You must need to concentrate on the driving, I'm sorry."

"No matter, Gretel. The bandits have been dealt with. Why on earth would I permit this picnic otherwise?" Ignacio said with a quick glance over his shoulder. He didn't want Marcela becoming excited.

"I would not want the Senora fighting anyone. It's hardly good for the baby," Gretel said. "Do you know, she carries a dagger under her skirts? She even has a pocket through her clothes to help her reach it."

"That is interesting…"

"The Colonel encourages it. Sometimes I think he creates more trouble than he prevents. It gives her ideas of pirates and bandits behind every tree, and longs for the opportunity to use her weapon and her skills. She could probably beat you in a sword fight, Alcalde."

Ignacio thought for a moment. Once he had thought he was a good swordsman. Now he knew he had lost his touch somewhat.

"I will have to practice with her," Ignacio said without thinking.

Gretel hit him in the arm, and he winced. "You will do no such thing, Alcalde. She is an expectant mother," Gretel said with exasperation.

"I meant after the birth," Ignacio said, rubbing his arm. She was strong and knew how to hit. "Of course."

"The Colonel would condone such things. I don't know if it is good for her."

"Well, the Colonel is the head of his home, senorita," Ignacio said. "Such is the law of the land."

"Sometimes it is a stupid law of the land."

Ignacio was a little flummoxed by the conversation and was silent. Gretel sunk back into her previous seat, as if embarrassed. He wondered why.


	31. Ignacio's Picnic

The picnic was hearty and filling. Pilar was governing the tavern well, and providing the best food that could be sourced in the territory. So it seemed to Ignacio. They had eaten under the spreading shade of a large tree, quite possibly the very one he had foolishly romanced Victoria Escalante under the influence of her love potion, and perhaps his own desire for a wife at the time.

The memory of it reddened his face a little, he could feel it. He sliced a custard flan while he mastered the blush, concentrating on measuring the slices. Handing one to Marcela and one to Gretel, he kept his eyes down, feeling a little foolish.

Marcela grew sleepy and they encouraged her to lie down under the tree and have a doze. She slipped into her nap effortlessly like a child, and Gretel watched her closely for a few moments.

"Just think, in a few months, the girl will have a baby of her own, Alcalde," she murmured.

"You will be there to help her. We will get a nursery maid to help you as well," Ignacio said softly. "She will be fine. There will possibly be many more babies in her future. Armand adores her," he added.

"Yes." Gretel stared out at the river for a moment. "He does, doesn't he?"

"Didn't your past employer dote on his wife?"

"No. She died, and he…" Gretel began and stopped. She gazed at him with a frown. "He was a beast, Alcalde. He did things, and I'm sure he pushed her down the stairs the night she fell and died. Everyone said it was an accident, but I knew him," she added. She shuddered a little.

"Did he hurt you?"

"He tried once, but I know how to defend myself. You have to learn to do that as a servant, Alcalde. Men are wicked sometimes, and things happen," Gretel whispered.

Ignacio nodded. He wasn't sure what to say, but he was a little shocked. Gretel always seemed confident and sure of herself and her surroundings, but now she had a haunted look in her eyes. The colour had gone out of her face.

"Well, if he ever comes to Los Angeles, point him out. I will have words," Ignacio said, firmly. Her hand was on his and she shook her head.

"I am a servant, Alcalde. It is very noble that you wish to defend my honour, but I am quite alright, truly."

"No lady should ever fear for her safety…" Ignacio said, and stopped. Three years ago he would never have considered the woman a lady. Her status as a maid, and the colour of her skin would have cast her into the rank of a nobody. He flushed again, and shook his head.

"Alcalde, are you alright?"

"I think I will take a walk to clear my head, Gretel," Ignacio said distractedly. "Could you watch over Marcela for a while?"

"Of course," she murmured. "Alcalde?"

"I'm fine. I just feel a little…angry about the whole thing. What you've had to put up with, Gretel… I don't like to be angry in front of you."

She smiled a little. Ignacio stood up and brushed the crumbs off his uniform, and went to check on the horses.

Zzzz

A shrill scream split the air, and Ignacio drew his sword and ran back to the picnic area.

"Well, well. We have an Indian brat trying to pass herself off as a fine lady, Joe. What shall we do with her?"

"There is a bounty on Indians in San Pedro. We could pass her off as one of those. They all look the same after all," the other bandit said with a laugh.

Gretel was held in a firm grip by a bandit and his friend was holding Marcela at gunpoint. She looked incredibly angry, but powerless to do anything. Ignacio dashed into the middle of the scene, almost without thinking.

"Unhand that lady, Senor, or you will feel the sting of my sword," Ignacio's voice rang out. "I am the Alcalde of Los Angeles and you are surrounded by lancers. You will drop your weapons and surrender to me immediately."

The leader of the bandits laughed a little.

"Did you hear that, Joe? The Alcalde of Los Angeles himself," the bandit said. "I didn't see any lancers, Senor Alcalde."

"Perhaps not, sir. But nevertheless, you will throw down your weapons and unhand the lady," a deep familiar voice interrupted.

Ignacio turned, following the bandits stunned stare beyond him.

Zorro was seated on Toronado, and seemed larger than life. Tall and confident in the saddle, he didn't even bother to dismount before dealing with one of the bandits. The stinging sound of the whip echoed as it was flicked towards the man with his hands wrapped around Gretel. The man yelped and let go of her, and she ran to Ignacio's side. The bandit growled and drew his own sword.

"One for you, Senor Alcalde," Zorro said. "And one for me," he added, drawing the sabre and dismounting to confront Marcela's bandit.

Ignacio's sword was quick and well-practiced. Over the past year he had been getting steadily better, and the bandit was no swordsman. Soon the bandit was on his bottom in the dirt, with the Alcalde's sword at his heart.

"Surrender to me, ruffian," Ignacio said with a growl. "Now."

The bandit surrendered, and Ignacio relieved him of his sword. Joe was unconscious at Zorro's feet a few moments into the swordfight, and Zorro hadn't even broken out in a sweat, Ignacio was sure of it.

Zorro was sheathing his sabre as Ignacio approached him.

"Thank you Zorro. Obviously your message system alerted you to our continued need for your assistance," Ignacio said with relief. He sheathed his rapier with a fluid movement.

"You are getting remarkably better at fencing, Alcalde. My congratulations on your improvement," Zorro said softly.

"I would like to offer myself as a student, Zorro. If there is any way you could train me to be better still, I would be very grateful," Ignacio said.

Zorro stared at him as if he had suddenly grown another head. He mounted Toronado before he could think of something to say.

"I would have to consider that idea very seriously, Alcalde. You have always been an enemy in the past…"

"He has changed El Zorro. He is a better man," Gretel said. "I see him every day, and I've watched him change."

"A leopard rarely changes his spots, senorita," Zorro said seriously.

There was a movement to the side of Ignacio's vision, and he moved instinctively, remembering the so called 'surrendered' bandit. He had taken the sword, but hadn't checked for any other weapons. All he could think of was Gretel, and the bandits desire for the bounty. A normal bounty was dead or alive, he remembered.

"Gushing Stream, look out," he shouted, placing himself in front of the Indian maid. He heard the sharp retort of a gun. Seconds later he felt the sting and pain of the bullet as it hit his body, plunging him into darkness.


	32. Ignacio's Nurse

Ignacio's Nurse

Ignacio drifted in and out of consciousness.

He was aware of Zorro's voice, and strong arms that couldn't have been a woman's lifting him into the buggy, and bandaging his body tightly. He felt himself behind gently shaken by those arms, but was unable to respond well enough to make any sense of the whole thing, or even open his eyes.

He could feel softness around him, and gentle hands holding him. A woman's hands. Soft and tiny, with a firm grip.

Was Marcela alright? As the pain entered his consciousness, he felt himself falling back into darkness, but he thought he heard his own voice murmur the question. He felt reassured by a soft voice, and knew no more for a long time.

Zzz

Ignacio woke in his own bed at the garrison, and pain filtered through his awareness. He opened his eyes wearily, and squinted in the sudden light. Someone was cooling his forehead with a soft cloth, and he was aware of someone's soft voice constantly speaking to him. Random sentences seemed to be coming at him at first, and he was sure the speaker didn't know he was awake.

"Ignacio, of all the crazy things I've ever seen, that was one of the craziest. To think you put your life on the line for me, I could not believe it. I have asked you a thousand times since that afternoon, why on earth would you do that? It's not as if I am anyone important. I am not Alcalde of a bustling little pueblo. People don't need me like they need you. When people say you are a bad man, I cannot believe it…" She paused to soak the cloth again in the tepid water.

"I used to look at you, doting on your sister. I used to watch you and wish for a brother like you. They took me from my family so long ago, and I can't even remember if I even had a brother. They made me into myself. They taught me English, Italian and Spanish, and they set me in motion. They said I looked like a little doll, and they treated me like a pet dog. I can play piano, paint with water colours, and sing like a dream, but I can never be me. Not the real me, not the person I should have been, not the person I could have been. I will never marry, never have a child to hold – never be loved by anyone really. And for you to do that, Ignacio, you are a foolish man…"

Ignacio blinked a few times and reached for her hand. "I have…never heard…you talk so much," he murmured softly.

She blushed and turned her head. "I didn't know you were awake," she replied softly.

"You talk to me to pass the time?"

"You have been asleep for almost a week, Alcalde," she answered gently.

"I think you were calling me Ignacio a moment ago, Gushing Stream," he said. "I like the sound of my name, senorita."

"It's not seemly."

"It's also not seemly to be in a man's bedchamber unchaperoned," Ignacio said, quickly aware that they were completely alone.

She smiled, and shook her head. "Whatever I do is unseemly, Ignacio. I am worse than an Indian," Gushing Stream said softly. "And what about Gretel? I thought you preferred it that way. I'm not offended by the name," she added.

"I want to call you your real name," Ignacio said with a smile. "Gretel has never really sat right in my mind. You are not meant to be called Gretel."

"Alright then. I am Gushing Stream, you are Ignacio. Do you feel better now?"

Ignacio smiled, and then grimaced. "No particularly, but at least we've got that straight in our heads."

She hovered near a jug of cool water, and offered him some. He could never remember feeling so weak and helpless in his life, but he allowed her to help him drink.

"Don Diego sent over an Indian remedy – cactus tea, I believe. It helps with the pain, and it's a tonic of sorts. He's told me to give it to you regularly. I will have to be strict with you, my friend. It is not a pleasant drink," Gushing Stream said gently. She gave him another cup with the tea in it, and Ignacio had to struggle to swallow it. It was bitter and nasty, and it felt like Diego was having a good laugh at him somewhere. For her sake, he swallowed the first mouthful, the second and the third. Three mouthfuls were enough, and he held up his hand to stop her.

"Well, you'll drink some more later, Ignacio. Don Diego said it would help you recover quicker. He said that Zorro gave him the recipe. Zorro said it worked for him, apparently. Don Diego wouldn't lie."

Ignacio grimaced a little, trying to suppress a yawn. Don Diego would lie a lot; it was just a ploy to act like he didn't. He supposed he owed his life to the masked man, because he was on hand as the bullet had struck. The women would have been protected at least.

"Marcela is alright?"

"Marcela is in bed, recovering from the excitement. The doctor has advised bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. The baby should be born sometime in the next 6 weeks, Ignacio. That is something to look forward to, surely?"

"Definitely. Is the Colonel going to be finished his work at the Monterey garrison by then?"

"He is due to arrive tomorrow sometime. He was given leave to travel out here to check on things. The news delivered to him was a little confusing. I doubt he knows what we were trying to communicate. We were in an uproar of course," she said. "If it wasn't for Zorro, we would surely have lost you. There was a lot of blood, but the masked man stopped it very quickly and he made sure you saw Hernandez as soon as you arrived back in Los Angeles. And to think he called you a leopard with unchangeable spots."

"You're sounding a little like Marcela. You may be spending too much time together, Gushing Stream," Ignacio said with a sleepy smile.

"Don Diego said the potion will make you sleepy, so just rest quietly, Ignacio. Sleep," she said softly. "I'm right here, nothing will happen…"

"What will you do if something were to happen?" He thought back to the picnic and the bandits that had held the women captive. She hadn't done so well then. He glanced at her, and her eyes were stony and hard. She glanced at the night stand nearby, and Ignacio followed her glance. There was a pistol lying on the top of the small table. It was in arms reach of the lady, and it seemed small and easy to hold. It was not one of his pistols. It might have been one of hers.

"You are my charge now, Ignacio. I do know how to sword fight. I was taught by my foster father as a novelty activity. I can shoot quite well also. It was a requirement with a previous employer on the frontier."

"You didn't have to…?"

"Fire upon Indians? No," she said. "Bandits, yes. Indians, no. I was expected to fire upon Indians. I always dreaded the idea. I could have been firing on my own flesh and blood and not realise it. I know the different tribes are different tribes, but I have no idea where my home was meant to be. I could have been born in Los Angeles or in San Pedro for all I know."

San Pedro, Ignacio thought. That was where the bounty was being collected for Indians – dead or alive.

"I was not crazy when I protected you, Gushing Stream. I was not a fool. You are enormously loved in this pueblo, and a blessing to many people," Ignacio said, yawning deeply. "You would be missed if something…happened." He felt himself drifting off again, and he tried fighting it. Diego's potion must be fast acting, he thought, as he slowly lost the fight to stay awake.

As he dreamed, he dreamed of a fiery Indian princess with blazing golden eyes, and a flashing sword. She stood fighting off the bandits in his memory, and chased the dark times away. As the dreams faded after a while, he slept peacefully and well.


	33. Ignacio's Visitor

Ignacio's Visitor

Ignacio De Soto was seriously injured and lucky to be alive, he discovered when Diego popped his head in his door the next door. When he saw that Ignacio was awake and propped up on pillows, he gave him a slight smile, and sat on Gushing Stream's chair, pulling it closer to the bed.

"What an honour, Don Diego," Ignacio said a little awestruck, and a little irritated at the same time. Someone else should be sitting in that chair. He hoped the man would leave soon, so that she could return.

"Zorro said he was a little overwhelmed by you the other week, Alcalde," Diego said softly. "How are you?"

"Zorro felt a little guilty?" Ignacio threw at him just to see what he would do.

Diego was quiet, and watched him with slight alarm. His body stiffened, and he almost rose from the chair. He forced himself to relax, and Ignacio smiled a little. He wouldn't have noticed those things in the past, but when he knew the truth, there was enough evidence to back it up.

"I wouldn't know…I am not on good speaking terms with the man," Diego said. "He did say you stepped out deliberately to save the Indian lady. That was incredibly brave Alcalde," he added thoughtfully.

"I didn't even think about it, really," Ignacio said, without a trace of false modesty. "She was all I thought of. Strange…"

Diego waited for him. "Very strange. You issued a bounty on Indians, not long ago yourself."

"It wasn't really me, Don Diego… It wasn't my decision. I was outranked at the time."

"You didn't stand up for the Indians of our town. It's hard to believe you'd change your ways."

"A leopards spots don't change, Don Diego, but they can fade, until they are almost invisible. Mindsets change under the right circumstances. She is a caring, thoughtful individual. She is brave and a survivor. I admire her tenacity and her dedication to the pueblo's unfortunates."

"She does have that reputation. As you know, I've been absent for a long time, and quite distracted. I enquired about Gushing Stream or Gretel as some call her. She is a wonderful person, full of love, courage, and as you say, tenacity. Padre Benitez wants her to consider joining the nunnery in Monterey. She has amazing skills and talents just waiting to be utilized," Diego said carefully. He glanced at Ignacio.

Ignacio felt uncomfortable but didn't understand why. Gushing Stream would probably make a wonderful nun. She loved with her whole heart in a way most people couldn't, even despite her background. She needed protection, and she would not be happy with Marcela forever. She could help run an orphanage and cuddle babies to her heart's content.

"She deserves to be loved, Diego. If that is what she really wants, I would be happy for her," Ignacio found himself saying. There was a strange ache inside him as if he needed something but he couldn't understand why. An emptiness where he would not have expected cried out for something to fill it.

Don Diego narrowed his eyes in the way he sometimes did, and Ignacio sighed. He felt like the man was scrutinising every detail on his face, judging him from head to toe. He didn't want to be judged any more. He was trying to do better.

Diego smiled a little, and Ignacio felt a little nervous.

"Well, I must say, you are looking better than I expected. That weird potion that Zorro gave me seemed to do the trick. I would have expected you to be in a much worse condition than this."

"My nurse has been very helpful," Ignacio said softly. His mind wandered to the lovely young woman who had cantered to his every need, gracefully and calmly. Her gentle hands, her sweet smile had increased his desire to be well. Strength was a long way off, but he would get there - only because of her.

"Indeed," Diego said. His eyes grew solemn and he nodded. "Well, I suppose you know what you need to do, Alcalde. Keep drinking the potion and keep listening to your nurse."

"Where did the bullet hit?" He was wondering why he had been so disorientated and had next to no memories of what had happened next. How close had he come to death?

Diego watched his face, standing to cross to the window. "Upper right chest, quite close to vital organs," he murmured. Ignacio stared at the man's back.

"Zorro did feel a little guilty," Diego said, referring to Ignacio's earlier question. "I…the bandits should have been searched before turning away from them. It could have possibly been prevented."

"That shooting couldn't have been prevented. Not by Zorro, and not by me. The only way to really eradicate the risk would have been to shoot the man dead." Ignacio stopped and thought. "Did Zorro…?"

"Zorro knocked the man out, there was only one shot fired. The man didn't have another shot to fire," Diego said. "Armand is officiating as temporary Alcalde when he arrives this afternoon. He has already advised the hanging is taking place tomorrow at dawn. The Colonel is quite irritated."

"It would be good for Armand to be close by for Marcela's sake. The doctor advised bed rest for the term of her pregnancy," Ignacio said.

"Is that so? Someone should remind the young lady…" Diego said with a soft chuckle. "I do not envy you much Alcalde. I would have loved a sister, but then again… Felipe is hard enough to monitor and deal with. He talks about joining the military," he added.

"Felipe has found some more words?"

"It is slow progress, but he is getting some more words. It takes practice, and as we know, young men are unwilling to put in much of an effort if it is difficult," Diego said. "I wonder about his future…"

"Don Felipe would be best as an officer. Let him learn some more words, and send him off to university, Diego. Give him a servant to help guide him, but let him loose on the world. He is intelligent and resourceful. He shot that man who tried to kill you from quite a distance, and the accuracy was amazing. Straight between the eyes. He could have hit you, if he was a bad shot. It was not a fluke shot…"

Diego turned and glanced at him. "No, it was not a fluke shot. Felipe has shown an interest in firearms for a while now. He has practiced until he is a superb shot. That is what worries me."

"What? That he can defend himself and others?"

"No, that he wants to join the military. They will find a use for him, Alcalde. He would make a wonderful sniper."

"What's that?"

"It's a new tactic based on ancient Japanese warfare…"

"Yes?"

"A sniper hides in the undergrowth, and takes shots at the enemy from a long distance. Lack of speech is not a weakness in such employment. I think he would love it, but he hasn't considered the ramifications. He would be killing people…"

"The enemies of Spain, Diego."

"We don't live in Spain, Alcalde. We live in the new world, America is encroaching on Spanish territories, and soon we may be a part of their union."

"Spain will easily defeat their interests in the territory."

"Spain is a long way away, Alcalde."

"Well, the boy would be defending his home and his family. Whoever seeks to take over California probably won't want Spanish born residents to remain in the territory. We would have to fight to stay or return to Madrid."

"You would fight to stay?"

Ignacio was quiet for a while. He had thought about it, and wondered what he would do himself. The political upheaval was not a new problem. He blinked and saw Gushing Stream in his imagination. She would not thrive in Madrid. He knew his answer, and somehow he knew where his home lay. Wherever he could see his dear friend thrive, he would stay. He would fight to stay near her – and fight to the death.

He nodded at Diego, and yawned.

"I'd better let you rest. Whoever would have imagined, us discussing politics together? Sometimes the day brings many surprises."

Ignacio farewelled Don Diego, as the young man left the room. Another warm pot of the horrible potion sat somewhere close. Ignacio could smell it from his bed.


	34. Ignacio's Proposal

Ignacio's Proposal

Gushing Stream was back the next day, and as Ignacio de Soto stirred awake and turned to her, he smiled. His eyes lit up, and he smiled more when he realised she was dozing lightly in her normal chair. Some of her hair had fallen loose from her pins, and it fell haphazardly around her face. A long strand fell to her waist. It looked like black silk, soft and shiny. It suggested there was more to the straight laced, responsible young woman. It suggested a wild nature, a wild spirit and a love of life. He had already seen glimpses in her words of her real character, the one she fought to hide.

The English upper middle class background would have loved her for her natural beauty, and classified her as a noble savage with the rest of her race. They would have delighted in dressing her in silk and satin and lace. She would have been like a living breathing doll. He wondered if she had ever complained, and what they had done with her. She must have stopped complaining out loud long ago, but her spirit still rebelled. She delighted in her personal power with the sword, and the pistol skills – he hadn't missed the pride and boastful tone in her voice. He would like to see what she was capable of.

She was just out of reach, he realised, when he stretched out his hand. He sat up and reached again. Yes, just out of reach. Diego must have not put the chair back where he had gotten it from. That man was a pest sometimes, he mused. The malice didn't linger for too long, and he smiled at what he would have done in the past. Zorro would have driven him mad for most of the day, and then he would do something to worsen their relationship. It was an angry, bitter cycle. No wonder Diego hardly trusted him now.

Mendoza was the one who broke the spell, with the clumsy fool dropping the tea tray he was bringing in. Ignacio thought about yelling something at him, but Gushing Stream was still asleep, and waking up to her hero being disrespectful to the poor man wasn't a good way to gain or keep her affection. He bit his lip, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Alcalde. I will have to start again," Mendoza yelled.

"Fine, Mendoza. Fine…" Ignacio found himself murmuring. She sighed and stretched, athletic arms moving slowly and gracefully. She blinked a few times, and glanced around the room as if unsure where she was.

"It's alright, Gushing Stream. You're with me," Ignacio said softly. She glanced at him, and their eyes met. Something passed between them, something strange and she reddened in the face.

"Are you alright, Senorita?"

"Yes, perfectly fine, Alcalde… Ignacio. I forgot where I was for a moment," Gushing Stream said. "Was that Mendoza?"

"He dropped the tray, again."

"Why does he always do that?"

"General clumsiness. In my bad days, I call it incompetence, but it isn't. Just clumsiness."

"He means well, Ignacio."

"Yes," Ignacio said with a sigh. "I'm getting up today," he added, expecting an argument. He wanted to forestall Diego and the padre with this nunnery talk, and somehow say something in his defence. He paused. Was it truly that? Did he feel threatened by the idea? She would be happy, protected, and doing what she was obviously born to do – helping people day in day out. She would feel fulfilled, wanted, valued.

He swung his legs out of the bed slowly, and Gushing Stream frowned.

"I have to get up eventually, Gushing Stream," he said. "Today is as a good a day as any."

He put his feet on the floor, and eased himself up to put weight on them. He stumbled and almost fell. He immediately felt her arms supporting him. She helped him to the chair she had just been sitting in, standing back to frown her disapproval of his actions.

He sighed and sat gratefully. He had absolutely no balance, and he felt incredibly weak and powerless.

"Would you like something to throw, Ignacio?"

The comment was said with an element of humour and he glanced at her.

"You have the same look on your face that Marcela's gets during the week she is not too friendly. I can find something if you like."

He glanced around the room, as if wondering what he could throw, and then back at her. Her arms were on her tiny hips and her eyes were twinkling with silent laughter at him. He sighed and chuckled.

"Never leave me. I usually do start throwing things when frustrated," Ignacio said, remembering the boots he had thrown at Mendoza not long ago.

Gushing Stream paled a little, and her eyes clouded for some reason. "Ignacio, I have been thinking…"

Ignacio stiffened, and stared at her face. What was she saying? Already it didn't sound promising.

"We are being talked about in the tavern. All the time. They are completely silent when I walk in with Marcela. I asked Pilar what they had been saying..."

"What was the context?"

"That I am your mistress?"

Ignacio laughed. The shock of the statement was too great. As if he had the strength to even hold her hand for more than five minutes before drifting off into a sleep. Mistress? She would never agree to such an arrangement.

"It's not funny," she said firmly. "Ignacio. Not funny."

"I can barely lift a finger. How could I be doing anything at all?"

"Not you, me."

Ignacio was almost beside himself with instant anger. She backed away from him automatically, and he sighed.

"How dare they?"

"I don't care. I have always had talk about me and my goings on. Ignacio, I worry for your standing in the community. The pueblo needs to respect their Alcalde. I will not ruin your reputation, Ignacio."

"You are like my sister, Gushing Stream. There is nothing to fuel their stories…" Ignacio was afraid. More afraid than he had ever been. That level of fear had not been felt since his father had refused to look at him that fateful day, and refused to listen to his heartfelt pleas for forgiveness. "Gushing Stream…please…"

She looked at him with a small smile on her face.

"Ignacio, we can still write to one another. I will just need to leave Los Angeles."

"I…I'll resign…if that's what it takes to make you stay," Ignacio said quickly. He felt a little foolish and inadequate. She frowned. "I will resign," he repeated with more force and dedication to the words.

"I will not allow you to do that, for my sake. Ignacio, you are becoming the best Alcalde this pueblo has ever had. I know the stories, I know your past. I know that you were never perfect, and probably never will be perfect. You are still the best man for the job, and I will refuse to write to you anymore if you behave so erratically. I will leave and I will never let you know where I went. It would be for the best."

"Please, don't."

"Ignacio, this is a patient falling in love with his nurse. It happens a lot, my friend."

No, he wanted to shout. No, it wasn't just that. She was calm where he was wild; she helped him focus on what was important. Her laugh made everything alright. Her smile healed deep hurts from decades past. She couldn't become a nun, she couldn't do that. Not when he needed her, like the air he breathed.

She was already upset with him. She was already threatening to leave and never return. He believed her when she said he would never find her again. He couldn't voice his desire, his love, or his need. She would walk out on him.

Of course, she didn't find the same feelings herself. If she did, how could she? His reputation? He had no reputation to destroy, he never had. He had cheated to gain this position, and he had done it for his own glory. He had cheated the peons and some of the other low income earners for years, and they all knew he did for his own gain. Except this one shining example of womanhood. This lady standing so small, but so sure of herself and her path. So sure what was good for him.

"This started before the shooting, Gushing Stream…" It had been worth a try. "I love you."

The three words hit her forcefully, and she sat abruptly on his bed, as if her knees had buckled under her.

She stared at him with pain in her eyes.

"Ignacio…"

"Just let me say it."

She paused. "Please let me say it. Don't run away," he added as she glanced towards the door.

"I love you. I have for a few months now. I had no idea, until you said that just now. I couldn't bear it if you left me. I couldn't survive it. Gushing Stream, please." He paused, and wondered what he could say. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me. If you leave, I will become the monster I always was before. I will become the worst thing that ever happened to this pueblo."

"Don't you dare put those people at risk, Ignacio? That is no way to win a lady's affection."

"I already have your affection, Gushing Stream. I may already have your love. Why else would you react so strongly to my damaged reputation?"

"I am not going to be your mistress, Alcalde."

Ignacio paused. He was about to suggest that since the pueblo already thought along those lines, why not? Nothing was stopping them. Both their reputations were basically lost already. But he didn't. She was committed to the church, he remembered painfully. There were standards she followed, boundaries she would have to certain lifestyles. The ache was never going to go away. He needed her. He wanted her. He had always fought and won what he wanted. Whatever it took, he was prepared to do.

Trickery and ruse flashed into his consciousness, and then out again. She cast them out by the look in her eyes. He grasped for any idea, and found a good one.

"Marry me," he murmured.

"No, Ignacio, no." She retorted angrily and ran from the room.

He knew it would be a while before he saw her again. He hoped it would be in his lifetime. He sighed. Women were hard.


	35. Ignacio's Relapse

Ignacio's Relapse

She didn't come back. Part of Ignacio's heart shattered the next day, and a bit more the next day. He couldn't eat, he barely slept without waking in a sweat, screaming out her name. He needed her – and she wasn't there.

Armand de Cipriana visited the day after that. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, before he announced himself. He had been watching Ignacio carefully.

Ignacio had been staring at the wall. There was no luxury of windows in his apartments and where would they open out to? The barracks were rough and rowdy, full of undisciplined lancers who would just make him more miserable.

"Ignacio," Armand said softly. He had possibly considered the idea that he was asleep. Ignacio rolled to view his brother-in-law. "What have you done to our lady's maid?"

Ignacio was silent, and rolled back to his consideration of the blank wall.

"I upset her," Ignacio said. His voice was so soft the Colonel wasn't sure if he had heard it.

"Obviously," Armand said. He moved to Gushing Stream's chair and sat on it, Ignacio noticed. He shuddered despite himself. As soon as he was strong enough he would throw it out on the garrison's trash pile, or burn it for firewood. Maybe then his memories would burn to ash along with the piece of furniture.

"Apparently, you are somewhat of a hero, Ignacio. I have you to thank for my wife's safety and possibly her very life."

"No. It was Zorro. Always Zorro."

"Ignacio?"

"Go away, Armand."

"I won't, Ignacio. Tell me what is going on? Gushing Stream is training a young girl to take her place. She is leaving after the child is born," Armand said. "Why is she leaving?"

"I asked her to marry me," Ignacio said almost under his breath.

"You proposed marriage?"

"I don't disgust her. The idea that I am marrying beneath me disgusts her. Armand, she loves me," Ignacio said. "I know she does. Who else would care enough to protect me like this?"

Armand was thoughtful. "People say that you defended her with your very life. Is this true, Ignacio?"

He was silent. He would never regret what he had done. Now he understood the drive. It had stemmed from his unconditional love for her. His careless words revealed his selfish lusts, and striving for something he did not deserve. His selfish grasp for what he needed had lost him his prize. His selfishness had once again ruined his life.

"I need a transfer, Armand. Immediately on my recovery," he said. "It doesn't matter what I did for Gushing Stream. What I did, I did for love. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I can't remain here any longer. I felt hope and love here, and I can't walk around this town, remembering that I had that and lost it again. I need to return to Spain. Madrid is what will cool this passion, or else distract it to more profitable endeavours."

"You would swop common lusts for what you discovered with Gushing Stream - true love for lust?

"It's always worked in the past. I will forget my feelings with enough activity."

"I will demote you to sergeant, and have you cleaning latrines, if you are not careful, Ignacio. That will be enough activity for you."

"What is it to you, Colonel?"

"I fell in love with my wife, completely and utterly. I see the same emotion burning through you, and I care for you as a true brother. I will not let you give up on this love, Ignacio."

"She hates me for even saying that I love her."

"No, she doesn't."

Ignacio rolled to glance at the man carefully.

"She sits in the kitchen of the tavern with Pilar and weeps. Continually," Armand said with a little discomfort. "There is no comforting her. I asked Diego to talk to her, but it makes her worse."

"Diego has even less awareness of women in general than I do," Ignacio said with slight amusement. "She'll make herself sick with so much weeping." His eyes hardened with concern.

"What shall we do?"

"Could you possibly fall into a decline?"

Ignacio grinned. "I think she has knowledge of medicine that surpasses mine, Armand. She wouldn't be fooled for a moment."

He sighed. He had no strength to fight for her. He couldn't just cross the street and hold her to him and kiss her passionately in the middle of the tavern, like Zorro. That would put paid to her problem of his reputation. She knew about his physical weakness and it was to her advantage to act quickly to avoid his emotional scenes.

"I give up, Armand. I am helpless before her, and I am powerless to stop her."

Ignacio wanted to lash out at someone, and he had an idea. Diego was Zorro. It was a treasured secret for the man, and he knew exactly how to undermine him. It was irrational, and nasty, but it was a way to go out with a bang, and show the woman that had deserted him that he was no saint, that he was a monster.

"I am going to force this pardon on Zorro. I am going to catch him and unmask him in front of the pueblo. Then I will throw the stupid piece of paper in his face." He wondered if Alejandro knew what his son was doing, he wondered if Victoria was aware of her husband's lies that spanned almost ten years. The bandits would be glad to have a face to target, and Diego's live would never be easy or peaceful again. It would wipe the perpetual smirk off the caballero's face.

"Ignacio, that's ridiculous. We want the man as a friend, not an enemy. He could start a revolution in the town, and the people would follow him gladly, if you threatened him or his interests. You are not thinking straight."

Ignacio just knew he wanted to cause someone else to hurt as much as he did. He'd raise taxes again, and hear the cries of distress echoing around the pueblo. He'd execute a few innocents just to get Zorro to surface. Maybe he would be lucky enough to be the first man to fall by the masked man's sabre. Maybe that would stop the pain. He knew Zorro would be devastated and that would be revenge enough.

Armand brushed Ignacio's hair from his forehead, and laid his hand there a moment. Ignacio pulled away from him.

"Your hand is so cold, Armand." Ignacio said with a shudder.

Armand shook his head with concern. "No, it's not, Ignacio. You are burning up. No wonder your mind is tilting at windmills. You're feverish."

Armand walked towards the door.

"Mendoza!"

"Si, Colonel," the sergeant answered, moving quickly.

"Send for Hernandez. The Alcalde is ill. Get some tepid water, and some of Don Diego's medicine."

Zzzz

Ignacio protested that he was quite well, to anyone who would stop and listen. Dr Hernandez arrived and assessed him quickly. He diagnosed a relapse of a sort. The healing hadn't been as complete as they had believed. With the new stresses Ignacio was under, it was undermining his strength. Infection may have set in, and the dangers were discussed away from his hearing. He knew because the looks Armand gave him when he re-entered were proof enough.

"I am well, Armand. Diego's tonic was very effective," Ignacio said. He had to get well. He needed his strength to walk to his beloved and embrace her – before she ran away, and left him completely. If his grasp was firm enough he could hold onto her. "I am well."

"You will be well, Ignacio," Armand responded to him like an overtired child. "Very soon."

Ignacio wanted to hit him – hard. He wondered if the pistol was nearby, the one Gushing Stream had. He could fire it at someone, but not hit them, and then all these people would back off and leave him alone.

A servant came into the room, and whispered in Armand's ear, and the man rose with a look of distraction on his face.

"Hernandez, my wife. I've been given word that the child is about to be born."

"You must go to her, Armand," Ignacio urged. He was sure that the man would prefer to fuss over his wife and unborn child, and leave him alone for a while.

"No, there have been enough husbands interfering with their wives in childbed," Hernandez said firmly. "I must go to her. Keep the Alcalde cool, and try to limit the excitement level in the room. Ignacio is becoming incredibly irrational. It is not a good sign. Perhaps Don Diego can come and monitor his condition for a while."

"How long will it be?"

"Labour can last for days, Colonel. It will be as long as it takes," Hernandez said. "Colonel, stay here. Look after Ignacio. If this fever increases he could die."

Ignacio shivered from the firmness in the doctor's voice, and the way his body was starting to react to the fever obviously racing through his body. They both watched the man leave the room, with a mixture of excited dread in their hearts.

"I won't die," Ignacio said, stubbornly.

"Of course you won't."

Zzz

Don Diego strode through to the Alcalde's quarters, his boots echoing in the silent hallway. Ignacio was quickly losing sense of the world, and for a moment he clutched at Armand.

"Save me, Armand. It's Zorro," he pleaded. Armand hushed him; strong arms helping him lie down again, against soft pillows.

"It's just me, Alcalde," Diego's voice echoed eerily in Ignacio's ears.

"It's Don Diego," Armand reassured him, as the man entered, and Ignacio started to fuss again. "It's just Diego."

"You can't have her, Zorro. You can't have her. I'll stop you," Ignacio protested softly, as he lost consciousness.


	36. Ignacio's Dreams

Ignacio's Dreams

Ignacio was trapped. Wrapped in cold darkness, he wandered in dreams. Where was his princess? Absolutely no one was nearby. He was searching for something. He had lost something, but he couldn't remember what he had lost. Would he know when he found it? He had no idea.

Voices echoed in the darkness. Soft worried voices, but he couldn't catch what they were saying. He stumbled, trying to get closer to the sound, trying to decipher the words, but they seemed to fade away just as quickly as they had arrived.

There was a deep dark cave, he saw – up ahead. He stumbled towards it. Maybe someone was in there. He shivered. Don Diego stood there, and looked at him, staring deeply into his soul. Could he see his heart? Could he see his soul?

"Diego," he murmured. The man turned to him, and held a bowl of cactus tea in his hands.

"Drink it, Ignacio," he said softly. Ignacio tried to run, he hated that tea. Somehow he was drinking a little, though. "More, please, Alcalde. Try a bit more," the caballero insisted, and he pushed at the man. The dream man disappeared at his touch, and he fell further into darkness, tripping over and into the cave.

The cave was hot, very hot. He had gone straight from icy cold, to fiery heat in seconds, or so it seemed. Images of his past, both good and bad, flashed past him as he insisted on moving forward. He couldn't just sit there; maybe what he had lost would soon be evident to him.

Marco's death flashed at him, and he was back in the scene, experiencing it all again. He was outside his younger self, and tried to scream at him to stop – that Marco was stupid enough to trust him. That Isabella was so frightened that she hated him. Stop, he cried out, but no sound came. He cried out as the buggies collided, wood splintering and time seemed to slow down.

Ignacio had shielded his own face, and forgotten all about the terrified woman next to him. A gentleman was meant to protect the closest lady in such accidents. He saw her eyes widen in horror, and her arm went up to help protect herself, but pieces of the other buggy entered her soft body, killing her instantly. He could see the light fade in her eyes, as the breath left her body. He shuddered and was glad that she had known no pain.

The cry of an anguished father interrupted his horror. He glanced down at himself, knocking breathless on the ground. He stared at his father, and felt flung towards him. He was next to him.

"I'm sorry." He managed to say the words. It didn't matter that the man could not hear him, not any more. "I'm so sorry." He gazed down at his brother. He scanned him for injuries and it had been a blow to the head that had killed him.

Marco seemed to stir in his father's arms. Eyes flickered open, and stared at his father.

"He didn't mean this to happen, father. Forgive him…" Marco whispered through obvious pain, and as the light died in his eyes, he moved his eyes to stare at Ignacio. Ignacio froze as his brother seemed to recognise him, and Marco smiled slowly, just as his heart stopped beating. Ignacio stared down at his father, who started the insane wail that had haunted his nightmares ever since that day. He tried to lay a hand on the man's shoulder, as a gesture of support, but his hand passed through, ghostlike.

His life was flashing before his eyes, he realised. Just as they said it did. He was dying, and he had to watch his life pass before him. That was a curse he could hardly bear. He was so alone and so tired. So overwhelmed by his father's grief.

He closed his eyes as the world started to spin.

He opened them again, and glanced around. The scene had changed again. Zorro stood before him, with a bowl of cactus tea.

"Drink some, Alcalde," the masked man said firmly. He raised a sabre with his other hand, and rested it on his chest in a threatening move. "Drink some, now."

Ignacio found himself gulping down some more, and then the man faded once more. In his place stood Marco. Ignacio stumbled back.

"Marco," he whispered. The sound of his voice echoed around him in the darkness that surrounded them both. "It is you."

"Yes."

He watched as the young man paced back and forth, glancing at the ground beneath his feet and then up at him again.

"You are an old man, Iggy. All grey and old."

"It's not grey. It's blond, it just deepened."

The boy laughed. "I like your beard…"

Ignacio waited.

Marco stared into his eyes, and saw the grief lying there in his blue depths. He must have because his face softened, from childish mischief to brotherly concern.

"I never blamed you for the accident. It was a stupid thing to do, but you didn't want to kill me. Of course you didn't."

Ignacio said nothing. It was a dream, Marco wasn't really there.

"I don't like the man you've become. So bossy and mean, Iggy. So pigheaded and rude."

"I was always like that," Ignacio murmured. Hadn't he always been like that?

Marco was shaking his head. "You need to forgive yourself, but you also need to see your faults for what they were, and what they still are. Let go of that lady, Ignacio. Give her space. If she loves you, you will always be friends. Don't let such an accident happen again."

Ignacio felt the possibility in the young man's words. Could he end up reliving the moment in his older, more mature years? Could he run with a terrified woman and cause another person to die because of it? He could see Marcela doing what their brother did. She would trust him to stop. Gushing Stream had said no. He couldn't force the issue, no matter how hard it was to accept. That way lay death and destruction. He had to abide by her decision.

"Marco," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I am. I have lost so much… I will try to listen to you. Marco," he added. "I need her. You don't understand. You never had the chance to fall in love, to know what it does to your heart and soul. I don't know what I will do. I don't know what will happen."

Marco put a hand on his shoulder. It felt warm and real, and solid.

"Am I dying, Marco?"

The boy shook his head, and sighed. "Not yet. It is not your time. Much more suffering to come, Iggy."

"What do you mean?"

"You will gain things, you will lose things. You will see children born, you will see some die. You will outlive your wife. You will outlive the Spanish territories. Hardships are coming, Iggy. You are strong and will survive – but sometimes it will tear your very soul, and rip out your heart, just to shove it back into your body for you to live some more."

"That is my punishment?"

"That is just how it is, Iggy. No punishment could be worse than you have given yourself."

"I am trying, Marco. Truly trying. I want to reform myself and my pueblo. I am trying."

"Yes, I am pleased with you. Keep up the good work."

The darkness claimed his brother slowly, and he reached for him, grasping something solid in his hands.

"Ignacio, I am here," the soft voice of a princess entered his consciousness. "Please, drink some of the tea."

He felt the edge of a cup against his lips, but he couldn't open his eyes.

"It's no use. He won't take much more than half a mouthful. Gushing Stream," a deep voice said. Diego de la Vega was still trying to help him – as always. "It's not working this time. He may be dead before morning. I'm sorry."

The cup was more insistent, and a soft hand was propping his head up to take the liquid. "Ignacio. Please. Do it for me," Gushing Stream said again. It was as if Diego had never spoken. She wasn't giving up on him, and something in that gave him hope.

He managed to open his mouth slightly, and he managed another mouthful of the gunky liquid. She paused and waited for him to catch up, and offered some more. He managed another mouthful before he slipped slowly back into darkness. He reached out with a seeking hand, and she caught it in hers. He felt something like a soft kiss on the back of his hand, and then a soft hand brushed hair back from his forehead, before wiping sweat away from his face.

He slept peacefully now, and slowly regained consciousness in a strange cycle of waking and sleeping, taking mouthfuls of the cactus tea whenever she noticed him stir. It made him sleep deeper, and more peacefully. He was aware of her nearness even in his sleep, and if she let go of his hand, he would stir and fuss, until the comforting presence was back where it belonged.


	37. Ignacio's Kisses

Ignacio's Kisses

Ignacio was awake and feeling much stronger, quickly aware that Gushing Stream slept on his bed. She had fallen forward to lay her head on top of her arms, resting on his blankets. Her hand still held his firmly, so she wasn't too deeply asleep. She looked to be sleeping from pure exhaustion.

The Alcalde could smell the tea from where he sat. He tried not to disturb her. He didn't want any more of that stuff. He wanted to watch her sleep.

"Ignacio," a soft voice murmured. He turned his head, and saw Diego de la Vega leaning lightly in the door frame. "Good, you are awake."

He crossed over to the chair, and stood next to the lady's sleeping form.

"She loves you. She would have given anything to see you open your eyes and recognise her," he murmured.

"Love is not enough, sometimes. I proposed, she refused me."

Diego sighed, and glanced down at her. "I know she loves you."

"I can't force her to change her mind, Diego. I love her too much."

"Why would she refuse you?"

"I am too good for her. She can't destroy my reputation."

Diego smirked a little. "I would never have expected that from any woman."

"Nevertheless…she may make a fine nun. Diego, if she truly wants it, you can use your influence to find her somewhere safe. You know more about world affairs than you let on…"

"I asked Felipe about you. He was keeping things from me," Diego said softly. "I am wondering why you haven't confronted me about being Zorro, Ignacio."

"It's not my business, Diego. Why would I discourage any help at the moment? The bandits are too much for the soldiers right now. They are badly trained. I can't make headway; I've let them fall behind to long. They are the men I have."

"Loyalty from you, Alcalde?" Diego whispered. "You could always request new troops, fresh men from Monterey."

"They all have family in the area, Diego. It would cause so much upheaval for so many. We cope, but not well."

Diego smiled.

"I owe Sergeant Mendoza my life. There is some loyalty in that, Diego," Ignacio said with a yawn. "As I owe you my life. As I owe Zorro my life. Zorro has nothing to fear from me. Armand has the pardon signed by the governor, lying on the Alcalde's desk. Go and ask him for it."

Diego nodded. "Oh, you missed the latest news, Alcalde. Your sister has a new baby girl, and they are doing well. The baby is already a couple of weeks old now."

Dread settled in the other man's heart. "I see." No joy bubbled, he was happy for his sister. He was devastated for himself. He had to be strong, and he had to let his perfect woman leave him – with a smile on his face.

"Ignacio?"

"She is leaving the pueblo. Gushing Stream is leaving me behind. How can I rejoice in that?"

Diego nodded, and Ignacio watched as he crossed over to the cooling cactus tea.

"No. I am much better. Leave me alone." Ignacio said with a threat in his voice, just enough to make Diego laugh softly and put the cup down.

"She needs to go to bed," Diego murmured, glancing down at the small figure. "I should wake her."

"Please, just leave her for a moment. It's as close as I've ever come to holding her in my arms, Diego."

Diego nodded. "I'll check on you again after lunch. You had everyone worried, Alcalde. You seem to be doing well, but its early days."

The tall man left him. It was peaceful and the silence in the room was soothing. He could almost hear her soft breath as she slept. He wriggled slowly upwards, and tried to keep the hand she held still. It didn't work and she opened her eyes. Moving slowly, she ended up with her eyes fixed on his face.

"Ignacio. There is colour in your cheeks," she said with relief. "I was worried. I thought I'd lose you…"

"You will never lose me, Gushing Stream."

She came closer, and sat on the bed, level with his hips. If he had the strength, he could embrace her, and hold her close to his heart – where she truly belonged. His arms were not strong enough to move too much, and he was tired from the sitting up already.

He sighed, and glanced down. Gushing Stream leant across, and her lips were on his. Her kiss was hesitant and gentle, with an innocence that sparked something inside him. He was startled, but he wasn't going to let the opportunity to kiss her disappear forever. He deepened the kiss, and felt her arms go around him. Somehow his hands had the strength after all to respond to her embrace, and he could hold her. His fingers expertly released a hair pin and hair spilled out from captivity. Raven streams of silken hair cascaded around them. He stroked it, and taking half a breath as she broke off the kiss to try to straighten herself again, and smiled.

"I love you, Gushing Stream. Please. Let's just do this, and then worry about what comes next," he murmured. He stroked her cheek, before his mouth claimed hers again. She didn't move away from him, and she responded perfectly in the kiss. He stroked the hair away from her eyes, and traced a finger down her neck, playing with the lace at her neckline.

He was going to lose her, he knew that. She had started the kiss, and he was going to go as far as he could before she pulled away.

"Please, my love, please," he whispered, taking another breath. He released another hair pin, and he went back again with his lips. His mouth traced a line down her neck this time, and she sighed, moving closer to him, not away. His fingers gently tugged at the front lacing in her dress, trying to remember how it worked. A lady with no servants had front lacing in their dress, and with the right movement he could at least loosen it. His mouth travelled down to where her moderate neckline began, kissing as close to her bosom as he dared. Her whole body responded to his kiss, and made him wonder for a moment.

"Ignacio…please…I…" Her voice came in tiny gasps, but she was caught up in the moment just as he was.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured softly. He was slowly, gently tugging at the bodice of her dress. He waited for soft hands to push him away, her soft voice to complain heatedly about the improprieties he was taking. "Tell me to stop, my love…tell me."

She sighed again, and guided his hand towards her cheek again. She reached her own bodice, and gently undid it, letting the dress open. "Don't…please don't stop, Ignacio," she breathed. He gently touched what lay there just waiting to be touched. He could feel her heart racing, her breath making her chest rise and fall rapidly. He kissed her lightly between her breasts, before letting kisses travel all over the exposed areas.

He almost made himself stop. It was wrong; she would not like it afterwards. She was going to leave him anyway, and she was almost begging for him to move further, to take his touch to forbidden areas. His hand touched the tiny rosebud of a nipple through the thin fabric, and gently applied pressure. She moaned with pent up desire. He put more pressure on it, and reached for the other one.

"Don't stop," she moaned softly. He yanked at the thin fabric, tearing it in his desire for more. She was lovely. Soft skin, untouched by the sun melted at his touch. He put his lips around the tiny rosebud under his fingers, and teased it into full awareness.

He was strong enough to lean forward and ease her onto the blankets behind her. He found a way to move the cotton skirt up high enough to investigate other areas of her body. Running his hand up and down her thigh, he waited for her to stop him. He wondered why she didn't stop him. He had exposed her nakedness enough for an untouched woman to panic and scream. His hand travelled a little further, and found what he was searching for. Her hair was soft there too, and damp with desire. She flinched for a moment, and he paused.

"Don't stop," she urged, and guided his hand again. He sighed, and realised she was offering him all of herself. He gratefully accepted the invitation.

Zzzz

He would never have another time with her, he thought, embracing her later. He would pay for the intensity of their lovemaking. It had been too perfect. His recovering body was still weak, and he probably did some damage to something. He was naked, and so was she and they lay beneath the blankets quietly. She looked content and happy, even in her sleep. His arms held her close, and she was so relaxed.

He kissed her raven hair, and smoothed it away from her eyes. He stared at her face. She seemed younger in sleep. Such an old soul in such a young body.

He knew something about her, something she would never tell him. She was not a virgin, and her body had marks on it that should never have been there. He had felt scars on her back, probably made by a whip. Just as he did. She hated the way men treated women, the injustice of the laws of the land. Perhaps she had been molested long ago, betrayed by someone that should have protected her. Punished for being what she was. Taught to be silent under persecution, she would have stiffened her body and taken whatever came at her. Refusing to be broken, however, she had never given up striving for a better life.

"Oh, I love you, Gushing Stream." His whisper came with anguish, because he realised what she had done. She had given herself to him. But it was a farewell present.


	38. Ignacio and Zorro work together

Ignacio woke later, and his princess was gone. A note lay where she had laid next to him. He sighed, as he reached for it.

Dearest Ignacio,

I do not regret what happened between us earlier today. I have no accusations to throw at you. I will always love you. I will always dream of your kiss and the way you held me. I can't stay near you. This was a perfect morning, but it mustn't continue in any way.

You will forget me. You will move on. You will remember me with fondness, and you will smile at my memory in time. I will never see you again, my love.

I will write to you again, just like before. I need to know you are safe and well, and getting that pueblo back to normal. I will not provide my return address, so you will not be able to pursue me, as your heart would want to. You may forward your letters through the Colonel.

Tell Marcela, that I will write to her as well. Give her my love and kiss the baby for me.

All my love,

Gushing Stream

He crushed the piece of paper in his hand. He'd rather she didn't write to him, if he couldn't touch her again. He frowned, and didn't notice Diego standing in the doorway again, staring down at him.

"You got hot?" He said sternly. Ignacio wondered what he meant, and realised he was still naked in the bed. Diego crossed over to the bedside and laid a hand on his forehead.

"Normal," Diego said softly. He tossed him his discarded shirt, and considered the man for a moment. "Get that on, before you freeze."

"She's gone," Ignacio breathed, unfolding her letter carefully. He passed it to Diego, not really caring about what was written. He made no move for the shirt.

Diego read the crumpled piece of paper, and glanced at him quickly, and then read it again. He smoothed out the paper silently for a moment.

"What happened? What did you do?"

Ignacio shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"She speaks of accusations…" Diego said sternly. He raised an eyebrow and his voice died away. "Accusations…"

"As she says, she has no accusations, Diego. It's already forgotten. Whatever happened, means nothing at all. To either of us," he murmured, flinching at the lie. He would never forget it.

Diego stared at him for a moment. Then the man sighed, and reached for the cup of cactus tea.

"This time you will need it," he said, as he handed it to Ignacio. "Drink it."

"I'm hungry," Ignacio said softly. He drank it, and he managed to force the whole lot down his throat. Diego raised his eyebrow.

"I have chicken broth. Ignacio," he said, and paused. "What are you planning?"

"What?"

"You have that look in your face," Diego said, and folded his arms loosely. "A plan is growing in your mind. To do with the lady," he added.

"Why ever would you think that? I have a lot to do in the pueblo, Diego. I have no time for a woman who has no time for me. I have to get things in motion. Can I rely on your continued support? In every way?"

"As far as I am able to."

"Ignacio," he began. "It is alright for you to rest and recover. Gushing Stream was important to you. It is alright to grieve the loss of a close friend from your life."

"I have laid here for an eternity," Ignacio said softly. "A school needs to be built, and another doctor hired to help the pueblo. Poor Dr Hernandez has to rely on your skills to prop up his patients."

"I enjoy using my skills, Alcalde," Diego said with a touch of annoyance. "It is not an issue for me."

"If Zorro could be persuaded to help me train the lancers for a while, it would be greatly appreciated. At my limited strength, it would be very draining."

"I am not about to allow any strenuous activity. We were planning your funeral three days ago. I don't want to have to accept that my patient will need those plans."

Ignacio sighed. "Well, Zorro may well have to arm himself, because I am not staying in bed anymore," he said with a spark of anger. Diego frowned, and watched as Ignacio swung his legs on the side of the bed. "Are you going to help me?"

"Doesn't sound as if I am welcome here right now," Diego said with a huff. He sighed, realising Ignacio meant what he said. He offered a hand for the man to stand and helped him to the chair. He stood back and gazed down at the chair thoughtfully.

Ignacio could see cogs working in Diego's mind, as he waited for the man to say something.

"The chair needs wheels," he said softly. It made no sense to Ignacio. Perhaps Diego was sleep deprived from all of his doctoring.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, a compromise. I could rig a Bath invalid's chair with a few bits and pieces, and we would pad it and everything," Diego said softly. "If I added cushioning to the wheels themselves, it would be smoother than an actual Bath chair."

"Compromise?"

"Yes, you sit in the invalid's chair, and I wheel it where you want to go."

"I'll be dependent on you?"

"Get Mendoza to help then," Diego said. "I'll get you back into bed, and tomorrow we will have a fully functional mobile chair."

"With wheels? Like a cart?" Ignacio said with a frown. He felt the edges of sleep intrude again. The cactus tea was powerful, he remembered. He let the man move him again. "If it has wheels, I could just roll away somewhere."

"There is not many hilly areas in the pueblo, Ignacio," Diego said with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Somehow I don't see it happening."

Diego stood over him and watched him yawn. "Go back to sleep, Alcalde. You can get on with the job at hand tomorrow."

ZZZZ

The wheeled chair was rough but with the extra cushioning on the wheels, Ignacio could see the benefits quite quickly. He didn't have much access to his world, but the Alcalde's office and the rest of the cuartel was at his disposal. With a few soldiers to lift, resettle and push the chair, Ignacio felt much more at ease. He was tired, but he was satisfied that he wasn't wasting his time, and his life stuck in bed.

Zorro arrived, and made the soldiers uneasy as he strode into the cuartel. He kept his arms up and away from his sabre.

"As you know, Zorro has been given a full pardon. He is at our service to put people through their paces, while I am unable at present," Ignacio said firmly. "I trust you will show him what this garrison is capable of, and do yourselves proud." He truly doubted them to be able to do much, but a seed of hope was there.

Zorro drilled them as a group, and then singled out the best individuals for one on one fencing drills. Mendoza was gestured forward, although he protested softly.

"What, my friend? I will not hurt you, sergeant," Zorro said with a smile. "Now we are on the same side."

"Si, mi amigo." Mendoza tried to lunge, and Zorro tut tutted.

"First, you salute," he said.

"It's not a gentleman's club," Ignacio said with annoyance.

Mendoza did a quick salute, and Zorro smiled more. "Slowly," Zorro said softly. "Block me," he murmured, lunging slightly. Mendoza did as he was told. "And again, sergeant," Zorro said.

Ignacio watched from his chair, and shook his head. Mendoza would never make a swordsman. Never of Zorro's calibre anyway. He yawned a little, and Zorro was instantly distracted, glancing at him. Mendoza lunged suddenly with his sword, and Zorro's reflex kick had him sprawling on the dirt.

Zorro glanced down with surprise and sighed. "Mendoza. Sorry about that, it's not good to try to catch me unawares," he said, offering a hand to help the man up. "I am well practiced in my own defence."

"That may be enough for the day," Zorro said, looking at the exhausted lancers. "What do you think Alcalde? Once a week? Twice a week?"

"Twice a week," Ignacio said quickly. He didn't want to push his luck, but his lancers needed to be at full strength. "How is the bandit problem at the moment?"

"Moderate," Zorro said, sheathing the sabre. "Armand has a few elite troops at his disposal and they are dealing with it for now."

Ignacio nodded thoughtfully. "Ignacio, it is alright to be sad about Gushing Stream leaving you," Zorro said softly. "You love her, and your heart must be breaking…"

"It won't stop me doing what needs to be done," Ignacio said, steeling his heart against Zorro's words. He had managed to pretend for most of the day, but he could fall into despondency quickly. "What else needs to be done today?"

"Lunch, and some cactus tea," Zorro said, pushing the chair towards Ignacio's quarters again. "Rest and then you may read some correspondence," he added. Diego had rigged a portable ramp to facilitate the wheeled chair in some areas, and it was used to get the chair into the building.

"Don't push your luck," Zorro said, as he helped him into bed again. He knew that Ignacio was fighting to do more and more, and to resume his normal duties as soon as possible. Ignacio glanced at him acting more and more like Diego as he fussed in the room, and had to stifle a laugh. Zorro handed him the cup of cactus tea, with raised eyebrows, watching him drain it quickly. "Sleep, and after that lunch," he added with a smile, seeing the Alcalde's eyelids droop immediately as the cactus tea took effect.


	39. Ignacio's Continued Work

Ignacio's Work

Ignacio was like a firebrand racing through paperwork at his desk, as Armand de Cipriana dealt with most of the other duties of the Alcalde. Ignacio had finally admitted to himself that he was pushing his luck, and looked up through the open door, covering his yawn with the back of his hand.

He could see the tavern from where he sat at his desk. He had pestered and complained and shouted until someone had made sure of it. There was some sort of activity in the plaza, and he heard the clash of swords.

He wished Diego had made sure he could push his own chair, for a moment, as he struggled to work out what was happening. He sighed, and opened the top drawer of the desk, and withdrew his pistol. He primed it carefully. He just might need it shortly, if the lancers were true to form.

Zorro appeared at the door, and gestured for him to get down, and then the man darted away again. Ignacio reluctantly took cover under his desk, feeling like a fool. Several muskets went off, and shouts and other sounds could be heard.

Ignacio could only see limited things from his viewpoint, and wondered why Zorro hadn't thought to shut the door. He sighed, the man was in the middle of defending the pueblo, and he was wishing he had shut a door. He was being a little picky, he realised.

He saw the familiar black boots and scrambled up into his chair again, and Zorro smiled a little wearily.

"You see what I am up against, without your daily interference, Zorro? Annoying," Ignacio said softly.

Zorro sheathed his sabre and nodded. "All sorted. Are you due some soup or something?"

"I'm sure Diego will be by shortly, el Zorro," Ignacio murmured, as Mendoza appeared next to the masked man. "You look as though you need a lie down."

"I'll get to it soon, Alcalde," he murmured. "I am beginning to understand, Ignacio, what you have been battling in my absence. Hardly a moment's peace and not much sleep at all, really."

"Mendoza, see that the injured lancers are comfortable and send for the doctor," Ignacio ordered. Mendoza left at a run, leaving the men in peace.

Zorro shut the door carefully. "I suppose that was close, Ignacio."

"I would have wanted the whole world to know if I were you," Ignacio said softly. "The glory instead of the embarrassment. Think of it."

"I'm used to being embarrassed, Alcalde. Think of the fuss they'd make, if they all knew what I was doing. My father and Victoria are bad enough."

"How is Victoria taking this activity level?"

"She'd rather I didn't leave her side. She understands why though. She fell in love with my drive and convictions, she can't expect me to change them," Zorro said softly. "The babies are thriving – growing so quickly. They are crawling now, Ignacio. Imagine that. They will be running races before too long. They are so competitive," he added, a sparkle coming to his eyes.

"Bandits in the pueblo? That was close," Ignacio said, thinking about the ruckus that had interrupted his work.

"We were a little slow at responding. I will have to address that at the next training day. It could have become too dangerous."

"Nevertheless you vanquished them," Ignacio said softly.

"I have had a lot of practice, Alcalde. I have dealt with many bandits, inside town, outside town, and most are easily deterred. When they get inside the pueblo, it's a little confronting. Women and children are at risk, and the stakes are higher."

"My sister and the baby are alright?"

"Yes, Ignacio. We are fine." Marcela answered for herself as she struggled with the door. Zorro helped her by taking the baby girl in his right arm for a moment, and pushing the door a little more open with his left. The baby gurgled at him and he smiled down at her.

"Give me Iliana, please, senor," she said slightly crossly, and he passed her over. Marcela smiled a little, and positioned herself in front of Ignacio's desk, trying to ignore Zorro as best she could.

Zorro was amused by her body language. She obviously disapproved of him, although she delighted to be in Diego's company. He wasn't threatened by her in the least.

"Marcela, I will arrange with Diego for him to come and supervise Ignacio's medical care. I'm sure he won't be long. I thought I saw him heading to the newspaper office."

She nodded and Zorro left them.

"What have I done to deserve the visit, Marcela?"

"I want to know what you did to Gushing Stream."

He glanced up at her and then down at his papers again. "I really don't know what you mean. I have a lot of work to catch up on, Marcela. Gushing Stream is her own person."

"Don't give me that garbage, Ignacio. You did something, and she will re-join me only when I return to Monterey. It sounds as if she has been frightened of you."

"Well, maybe it would be best for you to return to Monterey. All your friends will want to see Iliana, and she needs to be surrounded by a peaceful environment," Ignacio said softly. "I know Gushing Stream misses you."

Marcela shook her head with irritation, and Ignacio frowned.

"Marcela, Gushing Streams left Los Angeles for her own reasons, and she assured me of our friendship when she left. She misses the bustle of Monterey and wants to return. What is the mystery in that?"

Diego stood in the doorway, and Ignacio wondered how he had arrived so fast. He breathed a sigh of relief as Marcela relaxed at the sight of the caballero.

"How is little Iliana today? Oh, what a sweet baby," Diego said, and Ignacio smiled at the way his sister almost threw the child at him. He jostled her in his arms, and she laughed as she did before. "How's the sweetie today?" His voice got soft and slightly lighter.

"She is a lot lighter than either of the boys."

"She's a lot younger than either of the boys, Don Diego." Marcela reminded him.

"Yes, I suppose she is," Diego said with a smile. Marcela shook her head at him with half a smile.

"It's time for the cactus tea again, my friend," Diego said softly, approaching Ignacio. He grabbed the chair and propelled it forward, steering awkwardly around the young lady. "Excuse me, Marcela, Iliana. I have to get my patient back to bed," he added. "He needs a rest, Marcela. Perhaps another time."

She sighed and left the office, and Ignacio laughed softly.

"You have saved me yet again, my fine masked friend."

"It's a pleasure." Diego set up the cactus tea, and helped Ignacio get into bed. "These days."

"What was it before?"

"A drudge, actually. There were some days I despaired of you, Alcalde."

"Have some soup first," Diego urged, and watched him eat some. His appetite was not as it was, and didn't seem to be increasing much. Diego was not sure he approved. "You can leave some for later, but I want the whole lot finished by bedtime."

"What will it take to get the pueblo perfect?" Ignacio said, ignoring his new friend's concerns.

"Nothing is ever perfect."

"I know. I need to resign, Diego. I won't until the pueblo is running smoothly, and then I will find her and convince her to marry me."

"I thought you said you would respect her wishes, Alcalde," Diego said doubtfully. "It doesn't seem that way."

"She wants me to be my best. I will strive for it, and then I will seek her out. I will court her, and she will not refuse me."

"If you say so," Diego said, pouring the cactus tea. "You seem a little high strung today. I want you to rest properly, and look after yourself."

"She would want that too, wouldn't she?" Ignacio said thoughtfully.

"Undoubtedly," Diego murmured. He watched his patient drink all the cactus tea and yawn immediately. Diego smiled, and arranged the blankets properly around the other man.

"Sleep Ignacio. Try to stop obsessing about her. It's one thing to be broken hearted; it's another to be planning abductions or whatever you seem to be focusing on."

Ignacio was too tired to engage in any more conversation, and he watched Diego leave the room.

He thought about his words, and realised he was still trying too hard to pretend that nothing had happened. Trying to pretend his heart was not broken, was simply hurting him more and more. She would never be forced into anything – she had a calm, no-nonsense spirit that would react with rage if enough pressure was put on her.

He yawned and abandoned himself to sleep. The rest of the day was dedicated to rest, and letter writing.

Zzz

The letter he wrote and forwarded through the Colonel was brief and polite.

Dear Gretel,

I will call you that, because it hurts less to refer to you by that name.

Making great strides in the training of the lancers, I have attracted the help of Zorro himself. Their improvement is promising.

I miss you, Gretel. It is all work, and duty and I will do well by you. I will force myself to be my best. Maybe then I will be worthy of your love.

Believing I could possess everything I wanted in life, simply by hard work, and trickery if necessary, I was a fool. Some things are impossible to obtain, and some things need to be abandoned to reality.

I am nothing without you, Princess. I will never forget the wonder of your touch, the way your body felt made for me.

More than twenty years ago, I had a love that was all consuming and fiery. It took me this long to set my heart on another woman. Please understand - I do not have another twenty years left in my life, to try again.

I know I should forget what we shared - I just can't. I hope that you can forgive my forwardness and accept that where I am is where I am.

Your Protector,

Ignacio De Soto, Alcalde of Los Angeles.

He signed it with a flourish, fighting back tears from his eyes. He sealed it against unauthorised readers and asked Mendoza to hand deliver it to the Colonel in the morning.

He would get on with his work, and he would hope for the best. Maybe it would all turn out alright in the end.

**Note: Here ends the story of Ignacio's Adventure. In Ignacio's Quest I will follow this tangent further. It got away with me a little there. **


End file.
